


Nine and a Half Years Later

by aescrof



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Book 2: Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, Book 3: Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban, Canon Rewrite, Fix-It, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, Remus Lupin Raises Harry Potter, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:40:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 56,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24490687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aescrof/pseuds/aescrof
Summary: Six months after the events of October 31st, Remus Lupin goes to check on Harry and doesn't like what he finds. Taking him from the Dursley's Remus raises Harry in hiding, but things get complicated when Harry's Hogwarts letter arrives and the pair of them are forced to face everything they left behind in Britain all those years ago.
Relationships: Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 82
Kudos: 449





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Re-writing the first three books and seeing how they'd change if Harry was brought up by Remus instead. Will be wolfstar but that will probably only happen once I reach Prisoner of Azkaban for obvious reasons.  
> Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. Some of the dialogue is lifted straight from the books but I've tried to keep it to a minimum. Also if you've only seen the films and not read the books there might be a couple references that seem a little off but it should still make sense either way.

He was not a spur of the moment kind of person. In his entire life there were very, very few times that Remus had done something without thinking it through beforehand. That was not to say that he couldn’t improvise. God knows he never would have survived the war if he hadn’t been able to think on his feet when required to. But in general, given who he was, given _what_ he was, it was better, safer for everyone if Remus _planned_ before he _acted_. As such no one could possibly be more surprised than Remus himself at the situation he now found himself in.

It had been six months since his life was upturned. Remus spent the first month in denial. He told himself this was just another one of the Order's schemes, convince the world the Potter's were dead and the Death Eaters still running around free would stop looking for them. And as for Sirius being the traitor well that had to be part of it too. After all they still hadn’t found the mole in the Order, but if everyone believed Sirius was it, the _real_ mole would relax and it was just a matter of time before they slipped up. Sirius would hate it of course, but there was no length too far he wouldn’t go to protect James and his family. The reason they hadn’t told Remus was the same reason they hadn’t told him about the Fidelius.

It was a hollow theory and deep-down Remus knew it. And so did the wolf. The first full moon afterwards it let Remus know its feelings on the matter in no uncertain terms. He woke up in the basement of his parent’s cottage choking on blood, unable to see out of his right eye, and with no feeling in his left leg. If his father hadn’t sent for Poppy he wouldn’t have made it.

For a moment, before he buried the thought deep down where it would never see the light of day, Remus wished he hadn’t bothered.

It took six weeks for his eye to heal fully. A mixed blessing perhaps as the lack of depth perception seemed to knock the wolf off-balance as much as Remus, at least he assumed so based on the lessened damage he awoke to on the morning after the next full moon. Still that meant six weeks of discomfort and duty with his father, and six weeks with no distractions to stave off the doubts creeping in.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was the funeral. Remus' mother had died in the early days of the war, shortly after he’d left school. James, Sirius, Peter, and Lily had all come with him then, to offer support as he said goodbye. There was no one to stand by him when he saw his father go into the ground. He hadn’t told anyone, hadn’t sent out any invitations to the funeral, there hadn’t been anyone to send invitations _to._ Remus didn’t have an extended family, or if he did he didn’t know where they were now, having not seen them since before his fifth birthday. Still Albus sent his condolences. Remus wasn’t sure if it was a relief or not that the headmaster didn’t come in person.

He said goodbye to them all that day. Finally accepted that his family was well and truly gone. If they had still been alive they would have been there for him. No matter their suspicions, no matter the danger, they would have showed up. But Remus was alone, standing vigil at his parent’s gravesides, he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. They were gone. He was alone... Except that wasn’t quite true was it. There was one part of his family left. One very small part.

He came back from burying his father to find he’d been evicted from his London flat. It wasn’t too much of a surprise, he’d barely been keeping up with the rent as it is, and without James' support there was no way he could manage it now. If he couldn’t afford a few months rent Remus definitely couldn’t afford the mortgage on his parent’s cottage, so he sold it along with most of its contents. He kept a few things, things that had sentimental if no financial value, photos and the like. But in the end everything he owned, even shrunk down, fit into a single battered suitcase.

It took a few months to find a buyer, during which time he was fired from his job, but when the sale came through Remus found himself with more money than he’d ever had in his life.

As he stood there, suitcase in hand, homeless with a pocket full of money but no income to speak of, his thoughts went back to that very small part. And he was seized with the desperate need to see Harry.

Remus remembered vaguely Albus mentioning Harry in passing when he delivered the news about that night. He didn’t say where he was, just reassured him he was safe. Remus hadn’t really been in a fit state to question it then. According to the Potter’s will, in the event of their deaths Harry was meant to go to his godfather but well... the next obvious option would be family. None of Harry's grandparents were still alive, James was an only child which just left Lily’s sister.

He’d only met Petunia Evans once, though by that time she was already Petunia Dursley. Remus hadn’t been predisposed to like her, having seen Lily reduced to tears one too many times by what her sister had said and done during school holidays, and she certainly didn’t endear herself to anyone when they finally met face to face at Lily and James' wedding. Sat in the corner on her own, gripping her clutch bag like she expected someone to try and steal it, and a face like she’d sucked a lemon anytime Lily tried to introduce any of her friends to her. She hadn’t stayed long at the reception Remus remembered. Lily had been happy that she’d bothered showing up at all.

He wouldn’t bother them, he’d decided. He would just hang around long enough to see if Harry was there, maybe try and catch a glimpse of him just to put his mind at ease, then be on his way. No one had to know he’d ever been there. But plans don’t always work out the way you planned them.

For all that Remus was not a spur of the moment kind of person, what followed was very much based on impulse, and as such wasn’t very clear in Remus' mind afterwards. He remembered sitting on the roof under a disillusionment charm with a good view of the garden of No. 4 Privet Drive. He remembered the relief he felt at seeing Harry’s familiar crop of unruly black hair as he sat in the garden playing quietly with a toy soldier. He remembered Petunia shouting, Harry flinching, words like wrong, cupboard, lock, a smack, a yelp, a sickening jolt in his stomach, a red mark, Petunia's hand wrapped around Harry’s arm, tugging. Then he was inside the house, his wand pointed at Dursley's heart as the man turned purple with rage, pulling a trembling Harry out from under the stairs and into his arms, his cheeks wet with tears. Deadly calm as he threatened the pair, his wand never wavering. The door slamming behind him, and then he was running, holding Harry close.

And so he found himself. Hiding out with Harry in a near derelict farm house where he’d been squatting for the past week. Homeless. Werewolf. And now he supposed uneasily, kidnapper of The Boy Who Lived, with no bloody clue where to go from there.


	2. Chapter 2

_9 and a half years later_

Harry was finishing off his breakfast when Remus entered the kitchen looking serious. He took a seat opposite him and placed a letter in the centre of the table.

“What’s that?” asked Harry.

In lieu of answering Remus flipped the envelope to reveal a familiar looking crest.

“Wait. Isn’t that... is this–”

“Your Hogwarts letter,” Remus finished for him.

Harry looked down at it with an expression of wonder on his face. He reached out a hand to pick it up but hesitated.

“I can’t go though can I,” he said quietly, “it wouldn’t be safe.”

“Would you like to go Harry?” asked Remus. Although the look of longing clear in his eyes was answer enough.

Harry swallowed, frowning as he thought it through.

“No. Not if it means I can’t stay with you.”

Remus had always been honest with Harry about everything. He didn’t always go into detail, mindful of the boy’s age, but he knew from experience that hiding the truth would ultimately be about Remus making himself feel better rather than protecting Harry. Harry deserved the truth after all. As such Harry understood their situation better than many of the children living in the commune.

He knew that his parents had been killed by a very dark wizard, that the dark wizard had tried to kill Harry too but it backfired. He knew that afterwards he’d been placed with his aunt and uncle who had mistreated him. He knew that when Remus found out he took him away from them which, while he didn’t regret it for a second, was technically illegal and as such they were forced to leave Britain and go on the run. That they’d eventually settled in a commune in the north of Sweden where werewolves and their families could live in relative peace from the general populous and the Swedish Ministry of Magic, who while hardly accepting of werewolves, were more willing to turn a blind eye than many other Ministries. And finally, that if certain people ever found out where they were, they would definitely be split up with no guarantee they’d ever see each other again. For even if Remus wasn’t immediately arrested, werewolves weren’t legally allowed custody under the British Ministry of Magic.

“Don’t worry about that Harry. Imagine that none of that’s an issue and answer me honestly. Would you like to go?”

Harry was quiet for a while longer, chewing on his bottom lip, but eventually he raised his head to meet Remus' gaze and nodded. Remus smiled.

“Then of course you can go. We’ll work something out,” he reassured him. “Well go ahead and open it then.”

Harry’s excitement was catching as he tore open the envelope and Remus couldn’t help but grin back at him. He couldn’t give Harry the life he should have had, one of comfort and plenty, and the love of his parents. But he’d done his best all the same. Provided all he could for their little family, made sure not a day passed that Harry didn’t know how much he was loved and cared for. And if Remus couldn’t always afford the best toys or new clothes, Harry never complained, in fact he accepted every second hand book and charity shop jacket as if it was the newest Nimbus model or latest fashion. But now here was something Harry wanted, something that had provided Remus with some of the happiest times of his life, and whatever it took Remus was going to make sure Harry got it.

A week later and once again Remus placed a letter on the table during breakfast. This time however he was smiling as he did it, and the letter was already open.

“So, how would you like to go to Diagon Alley tomorrow,” he asked casually.

“Wha–?” Harry dropped his toast in surprise. “But– I... huh?”

“I got in contact with Professor Dumbledore the day your Hogwarts letter arrived. This morning I finally got a reply. He has given us his word that we can stay together. Every summer and holiday you’ll come back home and live with me, if you want to of course, if you ever want to spend a holiday with your friends, I promise I won’t be offended.”

“But what about the Ministry?”

“Well, when your parents died, the Ministry ceded the responsibility of your care to Dumbledore and he’s given the okay. Of course if they became aware of my condition they might try to interfere, but thankfully that’s not public knowledge. So long as we try not to draw too much attention to ourselves, keep our heads down, we should be alright,” Remus explained. “So Diagon Alley?”

Harry finally seemed to let go of his worries and gave into the excitement. He let out a whoop and gave Remus a quick hug before racing off to tell his friends.

The next day they took one of the snowmobiles and drove to the nearest town and then took a four-hour bus journey into the city, which was the closest public floo access to the commune. Before they went in Remus transfigured them both. He turned Harry’s hair a mousey brown and his own a few shades darker than his natural colour, he gave them both brown eyes, rounded out Harry’s face, softened his own jawline, made Harry’s nose a little bigger until it more closely resembled Remus' own, and finally disillusioned Harry’s glasses. They were subtle changes but effective. With any luck no one would give either of them a second glance.

There was no guarantee that anyone would recognise Harry. No one in the Wizarding World had seen him since he was a baby, and his hair usually hid the scar on his forehead, but Remus was of the opinion that it would be better for everyone involved if Harry was safely at Hogwarts when the news broke that The Boy Who Lived had reappeared. He dreaded to think of the headlines.

Harry couldn’t help poking at his new nose and now invisible glasses curiously, but didn’t comment on Remus' precautions, quite used to his Uncle Moony's cautious nature by now. Though his guardian didn’t mention it, Harry thought Remus was probably also nervous about returning to Britain after so much time away.

“Alright so you remember what I told you?” asked Remus as the pair of them entered the back room of the pub where a large stone fireplace took up most of one wall.

“Keep my elbows tucked in tight. Keep my eyes closed. Try not to throw up.”

“Perfect,” said Remus with a smirk.

Taking out the little pot he’d paid for at the bar, Remus tipped the powder inside into the flames which turned a brilliant emerald green. Quickly the pair of them stepped into the fire and Remus put his arms securely around Harry.

“The Leaky Cauldron, London!” Remus called, and the two vanished into the network.

Harry screwed his eyes shut and clung tight to Remus' arm as they spun around and around. It seemed to last forever and all the while Harry chanted over and over in his head – _don’t throw up, don’t throw up, don’t throw up_ – until finally they were stepping over the grate at the other end.

Remus kept a hold of Harry to keep him upright until the ground stayed where it was supposed to.

“Do you need a bucket?”

Harry didn’t answer right away but eventually he shook his head.

“You look a little pale,” frowned Remus. “Why don’t we sit for a bit, do you want a lemonade?”

“No, no I’m okay... maybe later we could get an ice cream though?”

Remus laughed. He’d told Harry about some of the shops on the Alley the day before and unsurprisingly Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour had stuck out in his mind.

“Of course we can. Come on then, it’s just through here.”

He guided Harry out into the little courtyard and tapped on the brick three times, then enjoyed the look of awe on Harry’s face as Diagon Alley emerged in front of them.

“Welcome back Harry,” he whispered.

They needed to head to the bank first, but Remus let Harry take his time looking through every shop window they passed. Eventually they arrived at the white marble steps of Gringotts and headed inside. Harry did his best not to stare at the goblins but he couldn’t help his gaze lingering as they passed by. They made their way up to the thankfully free counter and Remus produced a tiny golden key from his pocket.

“We’d like to make a withdrawal from Mr Harry Potter’s safe,” he said quietly.

The goblin peered down at them from his stool suspiciously and Harry tried not to fidget. To his relief the goblin didn’t say anything except to call forward one of his colleagues who lead them through one of the side doors and into a stone passage lit by flaming torches.

Once the door was firmly shut behind them Harry realised in shock that Remus was removing the enchantments on himself.

“Moony?” he questioned.

“It’s alright sprog,” said Remus removing the enchantments on Harry as well. “It’s not safe to use these for this next bit but we don’t need them in here, the staff at Gringotts know how to be discrete, part of the job I expect.”

Remus nodded at Griphook, their guide who had been waiting silently for them to finish, and the goblin whistled, summoning a cart which the three of them entered.

Remus had forgotten just how fast these things went, not that he’d had much reason to use them very often even before he’d left the country. Still after the twenty-minute floo trip the twists and turns of the cart didn’t turn his stomach like it used to. Harry seemed to be doing just fine as well, based on how he kept twisting round in his seat to see everything. At last they arrived and Griphook unlocked the little door releasing a puff of green smoke.

Harry’s jaw dropped as he took in the piles of gold, silver and bronze. Remus pushed down the usual swirl of guilt and shame at the thought of his own financial situation, and helped Harry scoop up enough for school supplies and a little extra to take with him to Hogwarts.

Remus put their enchantments back on when they got off the cart at the other end, and then they were emerging back out into the sunshine of the Alley.

“So where would you like to go first?” asked Remus.

Harry was still looking a little dazed at the bag of money in his hands, but at Remus’ question he perked up.

“You got your letter?”

Harry dug through his pocket and pulled out the slightly crumpled Hogwarts letter.

“The first thing it says I need is a uniform, robes, a hat, gloves, and a cloak,” read Harry.

“We best be off to Madam Malkin's then.”

Remus lead him to a bright purple shop with a large pair of scissors hanging above the doorway.

Inside a witch dressed in mauve greeted them with a smile.

“School robes, Hogwarts is it?”

Remus nodded and took a seat in the front of the shop, giving Harry an encouraging smile as the witch led him into the back to get measured.

“Good thinking coming early, avoid the rush come August,” Madam Malkin muttered to herself as she bustled off to fetch her tape measure.

There was a wizard already being measured as Harry stepped onto the stool, though thankfully the man was too involved in discussing fabric swatches with the woman pinning paper to him to take any notice of Harry.

After Madam Malkin's they visited the Apothecary and Potage's for a cauldron, a telescope, and a set of scales and phials. Everything went into the bag that Remus had added extension and lightening charms to the night before. By that point both of them were ready for a break and Remus happily let Harry tow him to Florean Fortescue’s.

“Oh no Harry, it’s alright you save your money, I can pay for this. Besides we still have a few more bits and pieces to get afterwards,” Remus reassured when he noticed Harry about to take his money out again. “One chocolate and raspberry and Harry?”

“Um... strawberry and peanut butter please.”

“And one strawberry and peanut butter please.”

“Any toppings?” asked the girl behind the counter.

Harry hesitated but after a nudge from Remus asked for chocolate sprinkles as well.

“Is that an accent I hear?” asked the girl as she rang up their purchase, oblivious to the way Harry tensed up at the question.

“We move around a lot for my job, this one has a good ear and picks up bits and pieces from everywhere we’ve been over the years,” Remus lied smoothly.

“Oh, how exciting,” said the girl smiling down at Harry who shyly returned it.

Remus handed over the money and thanked her. As he led them to a free table in the little outdoor seating area, he gave a comforting squeeze to Harry’s shoulder. They ate in companionable silence for a while before Harry piped up.

“So where do we go after this?” he asked.

“Well we still need to get your books, and of course your wand. But after that... well while you’re off at Hogwarts I’ll expect you to send me loads of letters letting me know about all the fun you’re having, so it only makes sense that we buy you an owl really doesn’t it.”

Harry nearly dropped his ice cream in surprise.

“Is that a yes you would like an owl?” teased Remus.

“Yes, it’s a yes, it’s a yes! I’m getting my own owl, really?”

Remus nodded and grinned as Harry bounced up and down in excitement. They rushed through getting his books and even Mr Ollivander with his unnerving talk and all too knowing looks wasn’t enough to put a damper on Harry’s mood.

Before they knew it, they were outside Eeylops Owl Emporium. Some animals were skittish around Remus, as if able to sense the monster lurking in his blood, but thankfully owls had never had a problem with him. Whether it was because they were also predators he didn’t know. Ironically Remus was the one with the problem, at least with lots of owls in a small space, the smell of them burned his sensitive nose and was enough to make his eyes water. He’d struggled with the Hogwarts Owlery but at least that was well ventilated. Still for Harry’s sake he did his best to breathe through his mouth and ignore the burning at the back of his throat. He couldn’t help sighing in relief however when they exited the shop which luckily Harry didn’t notice, too busy staring adoringly at the beautiful snowy white owl in the large cage he was holding, currently fast asleep with her head tucked under her wing.

“Anywhere else you want to have a look round Harry?”

Harry shook his head.

“You getting tired? It has been a long day.”

“Yeah. I think I’d like to go home now.”

“Alright, let’s head back to the Leaky Cauldron.”

They didn’t head straight home, but stopped for something to eat first. It was a long trip back; they hadn’t had an actual meal since breakfast and ice cream wasn’t a proper replacement for lunch. They spent the time trying to decide on a name for the new member of the family, Harry eventually settled on Hedwig. Hedwig woke up briefly, blinked sleepily at them then went back to sleep which Harry took as approval of her new name.

\---

Remus was noticeably more nervous the next time they found themselves in London, but then so was Harry. The day had finally arrived and Harry was going to Hogwarts. His stomach was a mixed-up ball of nerves and excitement.

“Are you sure about this Moony?” he asked sceptically, looking at the very solid brick wall his guardian had just instructed him to run at.

Remus laughed. “This is it sprog I promise. Come on we’ll do it together.”

He put his arm around Harry and together they ran at the wall. Harry braced waiting for the crash but it didn’t come, instead he found himself staring at a gleaming red steam engine and a crowded platform. A few people had already boarded but plenty more were still chatting with their family members; the train wasn’t due to leave for at least another ten minutes. Remus helped Harry weave his trolley through the crowd until they found an empty compartment down the other, quieter, end of the platform and then stored his trunk away for him while Harry placed Hedwig carefully inside.

“Alright then,” said Remus, “you’ve got your robes to change into on the train.”

“Yep.”

“And you’ve got your money if you want anything off the sweet trolley.”

“Yes Moony.”

“Good. And you’ll let me know if you have any problems, big or small, I’ll be there alright?”

“I _know_ Moony.”

“Sorry sprog,” smiled Remus. “You know I can’t help but worry.”

“Yeah I know,” Harry smiled back.

“I won’t tell you to stay out of trouble. God knows if you’re anything like James the trouble will find you, but do your Uncle Moony a favour and don’t go looking for it at least.”

“I won’t, I promise,” Harry laughed.

“Learn what you can, but have fun, and tell me all about it. I’ll have treats ready for Hedwig.”

“I’ll write you a letter the first chance I get.”

Remus couldn’t help the tears that sprung up but he blinked them back before they could fall and pulled Harry into a hug, tucking the boy’s head under his chin.

“It’s going to be quiet without you around, I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too Moony,” said Harry with a sniff, clinging tight to Remus' robes.

The whistle blew, signalling the train was ready to leave and with one last squeeze Harry boarded the train. He kneeled on the seat and waved to Remus as the train pulled away. Remus didn’t leave until the last echo of wheels on the track faded away.

He found himself at a loss when he got back to Sweden. Rattling around the empty house like a ghost and spending long stretches staring at the sky in the hope of seeing Hedwig's familiar silhouette, even though logically he knew it was too soon to be expecting a letter. Their little four room home suddenly felt unbearably big to Remus and far too quiet. He had taken to obsessively re-reading Dumbledore’s letters to assure him of Harry’s safety. Going over and over the man’s promises until he could list them all by heart.

It was Freydis who eventually offered him a lifeline out of his own head, when she asked him if he’d consider helping to teach some of the other kids.

When they’d first arrived at the commune, Harry had been the youngest child living there, the next youngest had been six years his senior. Ironically in the last few years with the older children growing up and moving away and more families with young children moving in, Harry had suddenly gone from the youngest to the oldest kid in the group. Since he was seven Harry had attended the local muggle primary school – although local was pushing it, being a two hour drive away – but each afternoon Remus would spend a couple of hours teaching him about the Wizarding World and a few basic spells, with an emphasis on defence and duelling, Harry borrowing Remus' wand while Remus used his father’s to do so.

There was a mix of muggles, witches and wizards in the commune, and not all of the kids had shown signs of magic. Luckily with parents, one of whom was muggle, who until he was eleven believed their only choice was to home school Remus if he were to have any kind of education, Remus had a good knowledge of muggle subjects to go with his magical capabilities, and teaching he found suited him very well. Freydis even complimented him on his patience with the Nilsson boys who had been chafing against their new situation. By all accounts the Nilsson's had been a rather well off and respected magical family living in Gothenburg, but their circumstances dramatically took a turn for the worse when their mother was turned. Mrs Nilsson hadn’t stepped outside of their cabin in the entire two months they’d been here, with the obvious exceptions of the full moon.

It was still a relief when Harry’s letter arrived. Hedwig affectionately nibbled Remus’ finger as he laid out a handful of treats which she promptly scarfed down and then fell asleep. It was a long trip from here to Scotland. Remus left her to sleep and settled down with a cup of tea to read.

_Dear Moony,_

_I’m in Gryffindor! Just like you and mum and dad. I know you said it didn’t matter which house I was in but I am glad I ended up here. My new friend Ron Weasley is a Gryffindor too, we met on the train and we’re in the same dormitory here at Hogwarts. He’s got **five** big brothers can you imagine? I also met Hagrid who you told me about, he was really nice and invited me and Ron down to his hut for tea whenever we wanted._

_My lessons are going well. Transfigurations and Charms are probably my favourites, although Professor McGonagall is super strict and gives loads of homework. History of Magic is kind of boring. You’re a much better teacher than Professor Binns Moony, not that that’s saying much. One kid even fell asleep in our last lesson with him._

Remus had to laugh at that. Remembering all too well the effect the deceased History professor’s droning voice had on people. Post moon especially it never failed to make Remus’ head droop.

_The worst one is definitely Potions though. For some reason the professor, Professor Snape, really doesn’t seem to like me. In our first lesson we had to make a potion to cure boils and this other boy, Neville, he’s a Gryffindor too, somehow managed to melt a cauldron and it was all a big mess, anyway he had to go to the hospital wing but Professor Snape started having a go at me saying it was my fault for not telling him to add the quills or whatever **and** he took points off me, when I wasn’t even working with Neville in the first place! Ron says cause Snape's head of Slytherin he favours them and hates Gryffindor’s but I don’t know, it felt more like he just really didn’t like me specifically._

Remus frowned. Teachers weren’t supposed to play favourites but Remus knew it happened, but still from what Harry described it did sound like he was being targeted. Remus had had his reservations on hearing that Severus Snape was currently teaching at Hogwarts, but the Headmaster had assured him it wouldn’t be a problem. Hopefully this was just a blip, start of the year teething problems or the like, but Remus would keep an eye on the situation just in case another letter to Albus was required.

_We had our first flying lesson yesterday. Unfortunately we’re with the Slytherins again like with Potions. There’s this one boy Draco Malfoy who’s the absolute worst of the whole lot. He spends his whole time talking about how much better he is than everyone else because his family's all purebloods. Anyway, during the lesson Malfoy was being a git and we got into a bit of an argument and Professor McGonagall turned up and I thought I was in big trouble, but long story short, I’M THE NEW GRYFFINDOR SEEKER! Oliver Wood (that’s the captain) says I’m the youngest in a century. Ron’s brothers Fred and George are on the team too as Beaters._

_So anyway everything’s going really well. It’s kind of weird that everybody already knows who I am but we knew that was gonna happen and hopefully they’ll get bored of staring soon. But I’m fine so you can stop worrying about me. Don’t worry I won’t ask you to stop worrying completely, I know that’s impossible for you Moony._

_Lots of love,_

_Harry_

_P.S. I don’t know how long this will take to arrive but if it’s after the moon I hope you’re okay, and please say hi to everyone back home for me!_

_P.P.S. Some people asked about my accent and I didn’t what I should say so I just told them what you told the girl in the ice cream shop in London. I hope that’s okay._


	3. Chapter 3

With all the excitement of being made Gryffindor Seeker and receiving his very own Nimbus 2000, not to mention the whole thing with the three-headed dog, Harry had almost forgotten about writing home. So it was a bit of a surprise when Hedwig dropped a letter in front of him that morning, at least until Harry recognised Uncle Moony’s familiar handwriting on the envelope. He put it in his pocket without reading it. Moony was very careful about what he said and when, they both had learnt to be very good at keeping things just between the two of them, they had to, to stay safe. But Harry would wait until he was back in the dorm to open the letter anyway, just in case.

“Who’s that from Harry?” asked Ron.

“Just my Uncle Moony, checking up on me.”

“Oh, that’s nice. Did you tell him about being made Seeker?” Asked Ron dropping his voice to a whisper, knowing that it was still supposed to be a secret.

Harry nodded with a grin, still barely able to believe it himself.

“It’s a shame parents can’t come to all the matches, just the finals. But I bet Gryffindor’s in the final this year with you on the team!”

“Moony probably wouldn’t be able to make it anyway. Busy travelling and everything,” Harry muttered.

“Yeah... which class do we have first? I can never remember on a Monday.”

“Charms is first,” said Harry, thankful for the subject change.

It wasn’t until that evening that Harry got a moment alone to read Moony’s letter. All of his roommates were down in the common room, last he saw Ron and Seamus were teaching Dean how to play Gobstones while Neville was still trying to turn a matchstick into a needle. He’d at least managed to turn it silver in their last lesson.

_Dear Harry,_

The letter read.

_It’s wonderful to hear you’re doing well and congratulations on making Gryffindor. As you said, I would have been proud of you no matter what house you ended up in, but I can’t say I’m surprised it was Gryffindor, you have the bravest and noblest heart of anyone I’ve ever met. And as for making Gryffindor Seeker, well, let’s just say if your dad were here there wouldn’t be a single person in all of Britain who didn’t know by the time he’d finish boasting about you._

Harry smiled; Professor McGonagall had said much the same thing.

_I’m glad to hear you’ve made friends already, from what I know of the Weasley's they’re a decent lot. It’s probably a good idea to keep up the pretence that we travel around a lot with everyone else, but if you’d like to tell your friend Ron the truth then I’ll leave that up to you. There are few things as precious as true friendship and I want that for you Harry, but few things can strain a relationship like keeping secrets, even when it’s necessary. As such if you do decide to tell your friends, please make sure they know to be discrete._

_As for Draco Malfoy, it sounds to me like he’s probably just repeating what his parents have told him without thinking for himself. The Malfoy's are very close-minded people. It’s probably best if you try and avoid him as much as you can, if he’s going to cause trouble you don’t want to get dragged into it. On a similar note, do remember that not all Slytherin’s are the same, and while I know how easy it is to get swept up in the Gryffindor v Slytherin rivalry don’t get carried away, much better that you save that stuff for the Quidditch pitch._

_I’m sorry I didn’t warn you about Professor Binns, I remember all too well his talent for putting students to sleep back when I was at school. Part of me had hoped they might have replaced him by now but I suppose it’s rather complicated to try and fire a ghost, especially one that doesn’t seem to know he’s dead. Your dad used to ‘revise' by re-enacting all the Goblin Rebellions, he got half the year involved while re-enacting the 1752 Rebellion once, it lasted a full weekend and half a dozen kids ended up in the hospital wing coughing up flower petals._

Harry laughed.

_We’re all missing you back home, Torvald and Niklas ask after you often and Katja wants to know if you’ve eaten any haggis yet. Have fun, stay safe. I’m proud of you. Write to me when you can._

_Love,_

_Uncle Moony_

_P.S. Hopefully the incident with your potion’s professor was a one-off but let me know if you have any more problems._

_P.P.S. If you do go and visit Hagrid, try dipping the rock cakes in the tea._

Harry would have to remember that for next time.

Despite what Remus had said before, Harry was a bit worried about asking to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas. He had been looking forward to going home and seeing everyone, he missed Moony a whole lot, but when Ron told him that he and his brothers were staying at Hogwarts and Hermione pointed out that they’d have plenty of time over the holidays to continue their search for information on Nicolas Flamel, the opportunity seemed too good to miss. There was also the fact that the full moon was only a couple of days before Christmas this year, Remus would still be tired but he’d push himself to make an effort if Harry was there.

He still felt better when Remus wrote back saying it was alright and that they’d see each other at Easter. He also sent along Harry’s presents, saying it was up to him if he wanted to open them on the 24th like usual or wait for Christmas Day like his new friends would likely do. There was also a tin of Freydis' delicious pepparkakor which he shared with Ron and Hermione, and a note from Niklas to say ‘Buorit Juovllat’ and complain about Harry missing Kalle Anka and how weird it was that wizards didn’t have T.V.

January went by, and then February and Harry realised guiltily that he hadn’t written Remus a letter in nearly two months. Made worse by the fact that the only reason he realised was because they were studying ways to treat werewolf bites in Defence Against the Dark Arts that day.

Harry had never really talked to Remus about werewolves, for all that they lived in a werewolf commune. He knew that most of the Wizarding World hated them, which was why there was a commune to begin with, and of course he saw how tired and aching Moony and the others were after every full moon. But he’d never asked about what it was like to actually _be_ a werewolf, or how Remus ended up as one to begin with. As Harry copied down all the ways to limit blood loss and prevent infection, while also trying to avoid looking at the diagrams too closely, he was seized by a sudden need to see Moony safe and whole in front of him. Before he could think it through, he hastily scrawled out a letter asking if Remus was alright and sent it.

Hermione and Ron had both noticed how subdued he was, but chalked it up to nerves about the upcoming Quidditch match against Hufflepuff with Snape as the referee.

He’d almost forgotten about the letter, too preoccupied by the fact that Snape suddenly seemed to be hiding around every corner, but five days later Hedwig dropped a rolled-up piece of parchment next to his morning pumpkin juice.

The parchment contained instructions to wait in the Gryffindor common room at midnight on the 16th, and to make sure he was alone. It was easy for Harry to stay awake, he hadn’t been sleeping well for the past few days anyway, so when the clock hit ten minutes to twelve it was a simple matter of tiptoeing past his sleeping roommates and creeping down to the empty common room to wait.

He checked his watch every couple of minutes but at long last midnight arrived and Harry tensed, not sure what was about to happen. A few seconds ticked by in silence and then a familiar voice called out his name. Harry jumped up as if he’d been shocked and whirled around on the spot, trying to find the familiar face the voice belonged to.

“Down here Harry!”

Harry gasped, having finally spotted Remus’ head sat amongst the flames in the fireplace.

“Moony– but how?”

“Floo network,” Remus explained. “I got your letter, it sounded like you needed to talk face to face. So, what’s wrong?”

After he’d recovered from the surprise of it, Harry found himself relaxing almost immediately at just hearing Moony’s voice again. He also felt rather embarrassed at what was clearly an overreaction, and guilty that he’d worried Remus enough that he’d travelled all the way to the closest floo station on, what he realised with a jolt, was only a day before the next moon cycle started.

“No, it’s – I’m fine Moony. I was just missing you is all,” he mumbled.

Remus smiled fondly.

“I miss you too sprog. You sure you’re alright?”

“Well...”

“Come on Harry, you know whatever it is you can tell me.”

“I’m really nervous about the next Quidditch match,” he eventually admitted.

“Oh? I thought the first one went very well. What’s different this time?”

Harry hadn’t intended to tell Remus about all of his worries and suspicions about Snape, not wanting to worry him, but in his relief at seeing and talking to his guardian again he soon found it all spilling out. He didn’t say anything about all of the research he, Ron and Hermione had been doing about Flamel and their theory about the Philosopher’s Stone though.

“–and then I saw something I wasn’t supposed to and since then he’s been even _worse!_ He follows me around all the time I’m sure of it, every time I turn around–”

“Wait Harry, what was it you saw?” interrupted Remus.

“What?”

“You said you saw something you weren’t supposed to, what was it?”

“Oh um, well that was just...”

“There’s only so much I can do if you don’t tell me sprog,” said Remus gently.

“Well, what happened was I was reading this book but then Snape turned up and took it off me, saying that we weren’t allowed to take books out of the school.”

“That’s not true,” Remus frowned.

“Exactly! He does this all the time; he just makes up rules as an excuse to tell me off and take points away.”

“I’m sorry Harry, he shouldn’t do that.”

“Yeah! Well anyway, later I went to the staff room to ask for the book back, because I figured if there were other teachers around, he’d give it back, or at least he wouldn’t be able to give me detention for rudeness or something. Only it was just Snape and Filch in there, and uh... Snape’s leg. It was all sort of chewed up and mangled.”

“ _Mangled?”_

“I only saw it for a second, cause then he noticed me and shouted for me to get out. He was really angry. And then the next day during the match–”

“The match, I thought you said your first one was good?”

“It was, it mostly was. I just didn’t tell you cause I didn’t want you to worry, and anyway I wasn’t hurt and I caught the snitch and we won!” Remus’ eyes were still wide with alarm so Harry gave up on his rushed reassurances. “There was this one thing, near the end of the match my broom start acting weird, like it was trying to throw me off. And well we think, that is Ron, Hermione and me, we think that Snape jinxed it.”

Remus took a long slow breath through the nose in a way that Harry knew he was trying to calm himself down.

“How do you know it was Snape?”

“Hermione says you have to keep eye contact to jinx and Ron and Hermione both say he wasn’t blinking. Plus, when Hermione set Snape on fire my broom went back to normal so...”

“Hermione set Snape on– never mind. So you’re worried he’s going to try something again at your next match?”

“Yeah, but it’s even worse this time because Snape’s the referee!”

“Alright Harry, here’s what we’re going to do,” said Remus. “First I’m going to talk to the Headmaster and make sure he attends the next match. Anyone would be a fool to try something with Dumbledore there, and even if they did, he’ll be able to intercept alright?”

“Yeah,” said Harry, feeling calmer already.

“Secondly, try not to go anywhere alone. You’re probably alright in your dorm or there in the common room, but every time you leave I want you to get someone to go with you, I’m sure if you ask Ron or Hermione they’ll be happy to do so, they sound like good friends.”

Harry smiled. They were the best friends he’d ever had.

“Obviously it goes without saying but try not to give Snape any reason to punish you. I know that doesn’t help with him making up reasons to bother you but let’s not make it any easier for him, yes?”

Harry laughed, a little bitterly.

“And finally Harry. Make sure you have your wand with you at all times. God forbid you’re ever in a position to need to but you’ll be able to defend yourself, you’ve got your shield spell down and you know how to duel,” Remus sighed. “I’m sorry Harry. I wanted this year to go smoothly for you.”

“It’s not your fault Moony.”

“I know sprog, I’m still sorry though.” Remus smiled sadly. “We’ll get this all sorted out and you can go back to enjoying yourself with your friends,” he promised.

“Okay. I’ll write to you after the match and tell you how it went.”

“I look forward to it. I best let you go and get some sleep now though, it’s past both of our bedtimes now,” he teased.

“Yeah alright. Thanks for doing this Moony.”

“Of course Harry. Sleep well. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

The flames leapt higher with a crackle and then settled down into just a few glowing embers, Remus' face disappeared.

Harry crept back up to bed, freezing half way across the room when Dean rolled over but relaxing when he just muttered something and continued snoring. He drifted off to sleep that night – or more accurately early morning – feeling a little better about the world in general.

\---

If it wasn’t for Remus’ excellent self-control honed over years of careful, often very necessary, practice, he would be quite tempted to do something rash right then. Like flooing directly to Albus' Hogwarts office despite it being two in the morning, and then possibly hunting down Snape and introducing his sour face to Remus’ fist. For starters.

Yes, it was a very good thing indeed that Remus had such _excellent_ self-control.

As it happened. Remus had already booked a room for the night in order to floo Harry so late, so he was first in line the next morning to use it when he knew the Headmaster would be awake and in his office, not that the floo was ever very busy at the pub.

He arrived to the familiar sight of Dumbledore sat at his desk smiling benignly as Remus took a minute to orient himself, and try very hard not to let himself be transported back to his school days. He took a deep breath to steady himself and walked forward to take the seat across from the Headmaster.

“Remus, what a pleasant surprise. I trust you’re well?”

“Very well thank you, and you Albus?”

“Never better, in fact I’ve just received an excellent selection of Honeydukes finest as a gift. Would you care for something to eat? I seem to remember you had a particular fondness for their chocolate bars when you were in attendance here,” said Dumbledore cheerfully, sliding one across the desk.

“No thank you.”

“Ah well it has been some years since then, tastes change, a sherbet lemon instead perhaps?”

“I’m not hungry. And this isn’t a social visit,” which he already knows, Remus thought to himself.

“Straight to it then, refreshingly forthright as always Remus. Very well, what can I do for you?”

“I want to know why Harry is being tormented by Severus Snape when you assured me he wouldn’t cause a problem for Harry.”

“Tormented, how so?”

“He repeatedly singles him out in class, from what Harry said it sounds like he’ll use any excuse to punish him even if he has to make up rules to do so, and for all that, his idea of teaching seems to involve nothing more than writing instructions on the board for them to follow and screaming insults at any student who happens to make a mistake.”

“I see,” said the Headmaster.

“I don’t want Harry to go through what I went through with Professor Carnifex,” said Remus quietly, the thought had been gnawing at him since Harry had first described Snape’s treatment of him.

“That was a very different situation Remus. One that I will always feel tremendous regret over.”

“Is it really all that different though? An adult in a position of authority targets a student for something they have no control over because of prejudice due to past hurts, with the express purpose of making their life at best more difficult, at worst a living hell.”

“Admittedly there are some similarities,” Dumbledore ceded. “But what Professor Carnifex attempted to do to you–”

“Precisely Albus! What that Professor _tried_ to do to me is... Harry also told me what happened at the first Quidditch match,” said Remus, letting the Headmaster draw the conclusions for himself.

“Ah yes, that was a troubling incident.”

“ _Troubling!_ It’s more than–” Remus interrupted himself and took a deep breath to calm himself down. “I need you to tell me honestly Albus. Is Snape a danger to Harry?”

Dumbledore looked at him gravely over the top of his half-moon glasses.

“I can assure you; Snape is as dedicated to Harry’s safety as I am.”

Remus gritted his teeth against the bitter laugh that rose in his throat.

“With all due respect, that’s not nearly as assuring as you likely meant it to be Headmaster,” said Remus sadly.

Remorse coloured Albus' expression but he didn’t avert his gaze.

“I only did what I thought to be right,” he said quietly.

“So did we all. But you know what they say about good intentions.”

They sat in silent contemplation for a while, thinking about their choices.

“Even if it’s not Snape, someone jinxed Harry’s broom which means he _is_ in danger. What are you doing about it?” questioned Remus a little sharply.

“Rest assured Remus, I am investigating the matter most deeply.”

“I told Harry I’d ask you to attend the next match to keep an eye on things.”

“I already intended to do so.”

“Do you have any suspects apart from Snape, students? Other teachers?”

“Professor Snape is not a suspect, and I don’t believe any student is responsible.”

“So then a Professor, do you have a name in mind?”

“Remus, please,” said Dumbledore, the tiniest amount of frustration leaking through, “I have things in hand, I swear to you Harry will not come to harm. I wish you’d trust me as you once did.”

“I wish I could Albus. But like you said it’s been some years. Tastes aren’t the only thing that change.”

This time Dumbledore did look away.

“I will have a word with Severus.”

“I’d appreciate it. Please keep me informed on anything you find out,” Remus stated, rising a little stiffly from the chair, the effects of the moon beginning to pull at him.

“You will be kept in the loop,” the Headmaster promised. “It was good to see you again Remus. Good luck for this evening.”

“Thank you.” Remus hesitated debating in his mind, but at last he picked up the Honeydukes chocolate Dumbledore had offered earlier and put it in the pocket of his robes. He knew without turning round that the Headmaster would have a twinkle in his eye as he watched him leave.


	4. Chapter 4

Unlike the Christmas holidays, Harry came home for Easter which Remus couldn’t help but feel relieved by. It also helped that Harry said Snape had backed off recently. He scowled at Harry every time he passed his vision but, as Harry said, that wasn’t all that different from usual and at least now Gryffindor wasn’t losing as many points. Remus wondered how much of Snape’s change in behaviour was due to his talk with Albus, and how much was due to the letter he’d sent afterwards.

Harry was enjoying himself, showing his friends at the commune some of the things he’d learnt at school. While strictly speaking Harry wasn’t supposed to do magic outside school, the fact that Sweden didn’t employ the Trace combined with the fact that the commune was inside an ‘ _oövervakad zon’,_ an unsupervised zone in accordance with the agreement the Ministry had with the indigenous Sami, meant it was up to Remus to enforce the no-magic rule. Aside from making sure he didn’t get too carried away, Remus wasn’t much of a mind to, and Harry was taking full advantage of that fact.

Harry seemed happier and much more relaxed than when they last spoke, but Remus couldn’t help the feeling that there was something else Harry hadn’t told him. He knew better than to push though. Harry was a lot like Remus when something was on his mind. If he wanted to talk he’d do so in his own time, but the moment you tried to force it his first reaction was to clam up and you’d be lucky to get anything out of him for the next month.

It was getting close to the end of the holiday when Harry finally came to him one evening after tea and asked if they could talk.

“Of course, what’s on your mind?”

“I um... I was thinking. I want to tell Ron and Hermione the truth about why I live with you and living here and everything. And I know you said that was up to me, but I don’t know what I should say, or how much, or where I should start or anything really.”

That hadn’t been what Remus expected Harry to say but he was happy to go with it.

“Well I suppose, you start by finding a quiet moment just the three of you, and then you sit them down and explain it as best you can,” suggested Remus.

“But what do I say if they want to know why we never went back to Britain?”

“Then you tell them why,” said Remus patiently.

“So I... I can tell them about you then?”

At last they came to the main issue.

“You trust Ron and Hermione right? That’s why you want to tell them the truth.”

“Well, yeah.”

“I trust _you_ Harry. If you think that Ron and Hermione can be trusted to keep what you tell them to themselves, then I don’t mind if you tell them that I’m a werewolf.”

“Are you sure Moony?” asked Harry anxiously, “I don’t want you to get in any trouble.”

“Just so long as you make sure your friends know just how important it is to keep it a secret.”

“Of course!” Harry promised.

“And probably best not to mention too many specifics about this place, nearby towns, names of the people here, surnames especially. It’s not our place to share other people’s secrets after all.”

“Definitely.”

Remus smiled and Harry returned it, clearly relieved.

“Anything else you were worrying about?” Remus asked casually

“Nope, that was it.”

Something told him that wasn’t quite true but he let it be.

“In that case, why don’t we finish off the Easter eggs and you can see how many times you can beat me at chess before bed.”

“I know you let me win half the time Moony,” Harry rolled his eyes, but went to fetch the chess set anyway with a smile.

“Lies and slander,” Remus answered cheerfully.

\---

Harry didn’t tell Ron and Hermione straight away when they came back after Easter. It’s not that he couldn’t find an opportunity, with the rest of the school hating them and their own house especially giving them the silent treatment for losing so many points to the whole Norbert thing, there were plenty of moments just the three of them when he could have said something. He just didn’t know how to get the words out.

Then he and Hermione had detention in the Forbidden Forest, and something or rather _someone_ tried to kill Harry. Suddenly it was like he couldn’t hold it in anymore.

“Harry, everyone says Dumbledore’s the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of. With Dumbledore around, You-Know-Who won’t touch you. Anyway, who says the centaurs are right? It sounds like fortune-telling to me, and Professor McGonagall says that’s a very imprecise branch of magic,” Hermione had reassured him.

“I suppose,” Harry mumbled half heartedly. He stopped pacing and sat down on the rug in front of the fireplace. “There's something else I need to tell you guys though.”

“What? You-Know-Who lurking around in the forest trying to kill you isn’t enough for one night,” complained Ron looking pale. He squawked when Hermione jabbed him with her elbow.

“What is it Harry?” she asked.

“Well it’s sort of to do with Voldemort,” he said, ignoring Ron’s flinch. “but mainly it’s to do with me and my Uncle Moony. Before I tell you though, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone _ever_ for as long as you live!”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a look of surprise but then turned back to Harry with matching expressions of solemn determination.

“We promise Harry.”

“We won’t tell anybody!” they swore.

“Okay... so the thing is, we don’t travel around like I told you. I mean we did for a bit but I don’t remember it because it was when I was still a baby, and it wasn’t for Moony’s job.”

“Okay...” said Ron. “So where do you live then?”

“North Sweden.”

“Why didn’t you tell us that before?” asked Hermione.

“Yeah, and what’s that got to do with You-Know-Who?” asked Ron.

“Well when he killed my parents, I was actually sent to live with my mum’s sister and her family. They’re muggles. Except it turns out they really hate magic and so they treated me like rubbish. Uncle Moony found out and saved me from them. Only he got into a lot of trouble for it because he wasn’t supposed to take me, because it turns out I was with the muggles to keep me safe from any of Voldemort's followers who wanted to kill me for revenge.”

“That doesn’t make any sense! How are a bunch of muggles supposed to keep you safe from a load of evil wizards?”

“I guess they thought if I was in the muggle world, they wouldn’t be able to find me?”

“That’s awfully unfair that your uncle should get into trouble. Couldn't he have just explained that he was saving you?” asked Hermione.

“That wouldn’t have done any good. Even if they didn’t put me back with the Dursley's, I’d probably just end up in a muggle orphanage or something. I wouldn’t have got to stay with Moony,” explained Harry. “People like Moony aren’t allowed to have kids, not in Britain anyway,” he added hesitantly.

“What do you mean, people like your uncle?” asked Ron.

“Uncle Moony is... well the thing is he’s uh – he's a werewolf.”

Ron’s jaw dropped open in shock and Hermione's eyebrows disappeared behind her fringe.

“That’s why we live in Sweden. There’s this place up in the north where it’s safe for werewolves and their families and the Ministry can’t bother us,” Harry added in a rush.

“ _Safe!_ How can you be _safe_ living with a-a–”

“A werewolf?” finished Harry coldly.

“Well from what I’ve read, werewolves are only dangerous once a month at the full moon, the rest of the time they’re no different from any other witch or wizard,” said Hermione with only the faintest wobble in her tone to betray her lingering surprise.

Harry was grateful for Hermione’s logical approach as always but it didn’t relieve the prickly sick feeling he got at Ron’s reaction, who was now frowning fiercely at the floor as if he was trying to work out a particularly tricky equation in his head.

“I don’t care what you think,” Harry lied. “But you really _can’t_ tell anyone.”

“Of course I won’t! I promised, didn’t I,” said Ron, though he was still frowning as he said it.

By the time they went to bed they were all exhausted and there were only a few hours before they had to be up again, still between worrying about Voldemort and Ron's reaction, Harry didn’t sleep a wink.

Moony had told him all about the prejudice against people like him in the Wizarding World, how most werewolves were driven out to the fringes of society, denied jobs and housing wherever they went. The Ministry could never make its mind up on whether werewolves should be classified as beasts or beings and frequently used the subsequent ambiguity to justify denying many werewolves their basic rights. There was a reason the commune was in the middle of nowhere, although for Harry it just felt like home. It had never quite hit home before now though just how bad it was, when he was seeing it first-hand, and in the reaction of his own best friend. It made him feel sick.

None of them mentioned it in the days afterwards. The three of them still stuck together, the rest of the Gryffindor’s were still ignoring them though this was more because they were busy preparing for the upcoming exams instead of the silent treatment of the week before, but Ron was a little more distant and Harry caught him occasionally watching him with a strange calculating expression on his face.

Hermione was getting more and more frustrated with the pair of them, especially as the exams got closer and closer, and it was only Harry begging her not to that stopped her from yelling at Ron to hurry up and get over himself.

It was to everyone’s relief when a week later Ron joined Harry on his bed for a game of Exploding Snap and casually said halfway through the game.

“I reckon if you say your uncle is a good bloke, then he must be.”

“He is,” said Harry earnestly.

They shared a smile, and just like that things were okay again.

\---

It was after teaching one day; a mixture of working on the lumos spell and helping with maths homework – thank God Remus had taken Arithmancy with Lily and not Muggle Studies with the others, he was _not_ looking forward to the day they started on quadratic equations – that Anette Södergren pulled him aside.

“Some of the adults have been talking, and we’ve decided, we want you to teach us too,” she told him.

“I’m sorry?”

“You taught your boy Harry, and now you’re teaching Mrs Nilsson. Not all of us have magic but we still need to learn to defend ourselves and our families. So we want you to teach us. You think about it and let me know,” she said in her typical straightforward fashion.

After talking to various members of the commune, Remus included, Mrs Nikita Nilsson had finally emerged from her cabin, but she’d only really started to come out of her shell once Remus had offered to teach her duelling. She didn’t have any formal training, her parents hadn’t deemed it ‘ladylike’, but she took to it like a duck to water. She confessed after one particularly successful session where she’d disarmed Remus twice in a row, that aside from the pain, and guilt and shame, what had really kept her locked up in the cabin was fear, fear that even all the way out here someone would track her down and take her away or kill her and she’d be helpless to stop them. Learning how to duel, she told him, made her feel like at least she’d have half a chance of defending herself if anything happened. It seemed like she wasn’t alone in feeling that way.

Still he didn’t agree to Anette's proposal straight away. He'd taught Harry a few moves – how to throw a punch without breaking your fingers, that sort of thing – but he was no expert in non-magical defence. It was a fair bit of research and a few weeks later before he felt ready to teach a class.

It was a Thursday morning; the older kids were at school and Freydis and her partner were looking after the younger ones. It was mostly werewolves taking part in the class, though a few other family members who had the day off work had decided to join in too. All in all, there were about twelve of them standing out in the centre of the commune, ready to get started. Remus was nervous but decided the best way was to dive right in.

“Okay... so, the problem with conflict between someone with magic, and someone without magic, is that the person with magic always has the advantage. It’s a little like facing off against someone with a spear, and you only have a kitchen knife. But there are a few things you can do to level the playing field” he lectured. “For one, most wizards aren’t capable of much wandless magic, usually they can do no more than a few very basic, typically harmless spells. As such if you can manage to take away a witch or wizard’s wand, you take away a big chunk of their power.

The other thing to remember is that wands are designed to be used with a little distance, it can be very awkward to use them in close quarters. Here let me show you... um, Lars if you could give me a hand here please.”

Lars, an affable man with a stocky build joined him at the front. He smirked and there were a few titters in the audience as Remus had him stand so close; they were within hugging distance.

“Don’t worry I’m not going to do anything to you,” Remus reassured him as he took out his wand. “Now put your hand around my wand arm, yeah just like that.”

Lars wrapped a meaty hand loosely around Remus' forearm.

“Obviously in a real fight Lars would be gripping my arm with a lot more force, though he’s not doing that now which is much appreciated.” More laughter and Lars gave him a lopsided grin. “But you can see, when he’s this close, it takes quite a bit of manoeuvring to be able to hex him, without also hitting myself,” Remus explained, twisting his wrist around to show the limited range of motion available to him. “Which means you’re in the perfect position to try and get the wand away from me, now there are a few ways to do that...”

Remus went on to show them a few basic moves to try, then conjured up a bunch of crash mats for everyone to pair off and practice themselves.

“Remember, the goal isn’t to ‘win', you’re just trying to incapacitate them long enough to escape,” he added when it seemed like a few people were getting a little carried away.

“Remus love, your pockets glowing,” pointed out Nikita after a few minutes.

Remus looked down and saw that his pocket was indeed emitting a pulsing red light. With dread he took out the little snitch pendant inside, it was warm in his hand and letting out a low hum. Ice gripped his heart.

“ _Harry!”_

With a rushed apology to the group Remus sprinted towards the snowmobiles and drove at full speed the half mile distance to where the anti-apparation shield ended at the edge of the commune border. There he abandoned the snowmobile and twisted on the spot, appearing outside the pub, barely keeping his head enough to remember to apparate to the back of the pub not inside it. Two minutes later he was stepping out of the fireplace in Dumbledore’s office to be met by a frazzled looking Professor McGonagall holding a matching snitch pendant in her hand.

“Oh Remus, thank goodness. Albus isn’t here, I’ve sent a message but I really don’t think we can afford to wait.”

“I understand, where’s Harry? What’s happened?”

“This way, come with me,” she instructed, leading him out of the office.

As they hurried Professor McGonagall filled Remus in on all of the goings on the past year regarding the Philosopher’s Stone, from its removal from Gringotts right up to Harry and his friends confronting her that afternoon convinced someone was attempting to steal it.

“I already caught them once lurking around the third-floor corridor and sent them back to their dormitories, but just to be sure, I checked again a little while ago and found the trap door open and this was beside it.”

She handed him the little wooden instrument.

“Harry’s flute,” he’d brought it home with him to show Remus at Easter.

“A Christmas gift from Hagrid I believe.”

“Oh Harry, what’ve you gotten yourself into.”

They arrived outside the third-floor corridor and hurried through the door, McGonagall shooting a spell at the harp to start playing before the three-headed dog could do more than raise its head.

“Who does the harp belong to?” Remus asked in a whisper.

“I expect we'll find out shortly,” McGonagall whispered back.

Remus dropped through the trapdoor first, followed by McGonagall. They landed with a thump on something soft which a quick lumos revealed to be some kind of plant.

“Ah yes, Pomona was first I’d forgotten. Devil’s Snare. _Incendio!”_

Fire shot from McGonagall’s wand and the tendrils that were creeping up her legs quickly retreated. Remus followed suit and the pair hurried on down the stone passageway to the next room. Getting the key to the door wasn’t much of a problem, the key's wings were so battered it was struggling along just barely above head height. McGonagall grabbed him by the back of his coat before he could step through the now open doorway.

“Hold on Mr Lupin, the next one’s mine. The spell is activated the moment you step through and I don’t much feel like being stuck playing a game for the next ten minutes when my students are potentially in danger.”

Taking out her wand McGonagall begin casting a series of complicated spells in quick succession, removing the defences she’d so carefully put in place nearly a year before. At last she gestured that it was safe to go ahead and Remus rushed into the darkness. Light flooded the chamber to reveal a giant chessboard, the broken remnants of previous games littered the edges. Remus headed straight for the next door when a gasp from McGonagall halted him in his tracks.

“Mr Weasley!”

Professor McGonagall had hurried over to the side of the room where a young red-haired boy was slumped on the floor. Remus pressed his fingers to the boy’s wrist and easily found a pulse.

“He’s alive, just unconscious. Take him to Poppy, I’ll go on and find Harry.”

Before he could stand however the door burst open and a girl charged through. She quickly spotted the three of them in the corner, came rushing over and burst into tears.

“I’m so sorry Professor! We couldn’t let Harry go alone but he was going to go either way, but then Ron got hurt and Harry told me to come back and get help and–”

“Miss Granger, please slow down!”

“Where’s Harry?” Remus demanded.

“He went ahead to stop Snape!” the girl sobbed.

A cool fury settled over Remus.

“ _Snape!”_ he spat.

McGonagall called after him as he sprinted through the door but her voice barely registered, so intent was he on getting to Harry before Snape could lay a hand on him.

Remus didn’t spare a glance for the unmoving troll in the next room, or the potions laid out on the table and the fire that sprang up in the doorway of the room after that. He didn’t have time for any more ridiculous _tests._

Remus knew how to seal a room properly. He also knew that most wizard’s idea of sealing a room involved piling a dozen different enchantments on top of the door, and forgetting to so much as add a reinforcement charm to the walls. Remus had no doubt Snape, in his arrogance, was no different, and he was proven right when a swift _Reducto!_ sent the wall next to the door crumbling down.

Harry was screaming in pain. Someone else was screaming too, they had Harry pinned to the floor with their hands around his neck. Harry grabbed the man’s face and he went reeling back as if burnt.

“ _Flipendo!”_ Remus yelled, sending the man flying backwards away from Harry.

Remus ran to Harry’s side but Harry wasn’t looking at him, he was looking over his shoulder.

“Moony!” he shouted in warning.

Turning around Remus caught a glimpse of the man’s face, twisted in pure hatred but not Snape, _not Snape!_ His wand was pointed at Harry and his lips were beginning to form two fatal words but Remus’ reflexes were quicker.

“ _Confringo!”_

Remus shielded Harry from the blast that shook the chamber. All that remained of Harry’s attacker was a reddish-black smear on the floor and a few specks of floating ash.

\---

Harry didn’t remember much after Moony showed up in the chamber. He woke up two days later in the hospital wing with Moony asleep in the chair next to him. When his guardian woke up, they had a long talk. Moony told him everything that he knew and Harry told him about all the researching he Ron and Hermione had done. Harry had tried to apologise but Remus had just laughed and said he was just happy Harry was alright. They hugged and if they each shed a few tears, they both knew better than to mention it.

Remus had offered to take Harry home early but Harry wanted to stay. There were only a few days until the end of the year anyway and he wanted to spend as much time as he could with Ron and Hermione before summer. Besides he was looking forward to the End of Year Feast.

A few days after Madam Pomfrey _finally_ released him from the hospital wing, he got a message from Professor Dumbledore asking him to come to his office. Ron and Hermione looked at him curiously but Harry was happy to go, sensing that this was his opportunity to get all the answers that Remus hadn’t been able to give him. And indeed Dumbledore did, patiently answering question after question, apologising the few times he couldn’t answer.

“... why didn’t Remus ever tell me that Snape hated my dad?” he asked finally, not really expecting an answer. Dumbledore gave him one anyway.

“I suspect you already know the answer to that Harry. He was trying to protect you.”

Harry chewed his bottom lip and didn’t respond. He still thought Remus should have told him.

“Your guardian is an incredibly talented wizard you know,” said Dumbledore quietly. “Able to keep you safe and hidden away from the world for a near decade. I suspect it would have taken an exhaustive effort and a number of years before even I could have tracked you down.”

“You suspect? You mean you didn’t try?” Asked Harry in surprise.

“At first I did, but I was ultimately persuaded not to persist,” the Headmaster explained.

“Persuaded how?”

“By a letter. Your guardian is not just talented with magic, but also with words, although the two are arguably one and the same,” Dumbledore chuckled as if there was a joke there that only he understood. “You couldn’t ask for a stauncher defender. I am glad you have each other, despite what Mr Lupin may think.”

He lapsed into silence as if lost in thought, long enough that Harry started to wonder if he should just get up and leave.

“Well I shan’t keep you Harry. Go and enjoy your last few days, I greatly look forward to seeing what you and your friends will get up to in the coming years,” he dismissed him cheerfully. Harry was quite happy to do so.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On to Harry's second year.

Three weeks into the holidays and Harry hadn’t received a single letter from either of his friends. He knew it was a long way from here to Hogwarts, and that was in Scotland, Hermione was near London and Ron lived all the way down in Devon so any letter was bound to take a while to reach him. The Weasley's family owl Errol was pretty old and slow these days as well, but three _weeks?_

When he mentioned it to Remus his guardian had driven down to check there were no problems at the communal post box. The warding around the commune was set to allow only commune member’s personal owls inside, the rest of their post was delivered to a post box in one of the nearby towns which one of them collected at least once a week. But Remus couldn’t find any issues and suggested Harry try writing to them instead of waiting for them to write to him.

They were both surprised when Hedwig returned only a day after Harry had sent her off, ruffled and very grumpy but carrying no letter.

“Do you think she dropped it?” Harry asked. Hedwig gave an offended shriek and nipped Harry’s finger in answer. “Ow! Sorry Hedwig.”

“No I don’t think she dropped your letter. I think something else happened,” said Remus.

He apologised to Hedwig before running his wand gently over her wings, head and feet. The examination done he held his wand upright and it let out a puff of dark green smoke that twisted into a few different shapes before dispersing.

“Huh.”

“What does that mean?” asked Harry.

“I’m not sure. She’s been affected by some kind of magic, it’s strange, I don’t recognise what kind.”

“Is she alright?” said Harry, alarmed.

“Yes, yes she's fine. It doesn’t feel malicious, it’s just... odd,” said Remus frowning in thought. “I’m sure we'll get to the bottom of it Harry but I’m afraid in might take me a while.”

For the next week whenever Remus had a spare moment, he spent it researching. In a way it reminded Harry of Hermione, but thinking of his friends just made him sad. He had friends at the commune, even though they were all much younger than him, but Ron and Hermione were his _best_ friends, and he couldn’t stop the annoying little voice in the back of his mind suggesting that maybe he wasn’t theirs. Maybe whatever was going on with Hedwig had nothing to do with why he wasn’t getting any letters. Maybe he wasn’t getting any letters because Ron and Hermione hadn’t written any.

He did his best to ignore the little voice but he couldn’t squash it completely, especially when his twelfth birthday arrived a week later and he didn’t get so much as a note from either of his friends. Uncle Moony did his best to make up for it though, going all out with the food and gifts (or as all out as they could afford on their permanently limited budget), and everyone else made a fuss of him as always.

To his surprise, and pleasure, after lunch Moony revealed he’d rented a bunch of brooms for the occasion and roped in a few of the others to play a game of Quidditch. It was nothing like playing at school. Not everyone was confident on a broom, many of them hadn’t been on one since they were at school, and of course none of the rented Cleansweeps had anything on Harry’s Nimbus. But it was great fun anyway, especially when some of the other kids came out to watch and cheer them on. It was just about time for dinner when they stopped and Harry entered his room happy and tired, and looking forward to birthday cake when he froze in his tracks. There was someone sitting on his bed.

As he watched, the strange creature slipped off the bed and gave a bow low enough that the end of its long thin nose brushed against the bedroom rug.

“Uncle Moony!” called Harry. The creature squeaked and waved its arms about, to tell him to stop but Harry ignored it. “Moony could you come in here please!”

“What is it Harry?” asked Remus, wiping off his hands as he came around the corner. He dropped the tea towel and took out his wand when he saw the expression on Harry’s face but just as quickly lowered it when he saw what was in Harry’s room. “A house-elf?”

The elf was pulling on its ears in distress.

“Erm... who are you?” asked Harry.

“Dobby, sir. Just Dobby. Dobby the house-elf,” it said.

“Wait, I – I know that name,” said Remus. “Dobby, Dobby... the Malfoy's elf?”

Dobby made an odd frightened quivering sound and tugged harder on his ears.

“Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear,” he muttered under his breath.

“Right um... not that it’s not nice to meet you, but is there a reason you’re here?” asked Harry, stepping into the room properly.

Dobby was still shooting worried looks at Remus but at that he seemed to straighten out.

“Oh, yes Mr Harry Potter, sir,” said Dobby earnestly. “Dobby has come to tell you, sir… it is difficult, sir… Dobby wonders where to begin…”

“Well why don’t you have a seat,” said Harry politely.

To his horror, the elf burst into tears. Harry shot a worried look up at Remus who shook his head looking resigned.

“ _S-sit down!_ ” the elf wailed. “ _Never… never ever…_ ”

“I’m sorry,” said Harry a little desperately, “I didn’t mean to offend you or anything.”

“Offend Dobby!” choked the elf. “Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard – like an _equal_ –”

It took a while, made longer when Remus tried to offer Dobby a tissue which just set off another round of loud sobs and garbled thanks, but at last the elf managed to control himself. Though to Harry’s discomfort he was now sitting and staring at him with an expression of adoration.

“You can’t have met many decent wizards,” Harry tried to joke.

Dobby beamed and began to shake his head, then froze looking terrified, jumped up and started banging his head against Harry’s chest of drawers, shouting, “Bad Dobby! Bad Dobby!”

Remus shot a quick _Spongify_ at the chest of drawers before the elf could do too much damage to himself and Harry rushed forward to pull Dobby away.

“What are you doing – stop that!” yelled Harry in shock.

“Dobby had to punish himself, sir. Dobby almost spoke ill of his family, sir…” the elf explained looking teary again.

“Your family?”

“I’ll explain later Harry,” Remus interrupted quietly. Kneeling down to be on a level with the elf. “Dobby do you think you could tell us why you’re here now? I can’t imagine your Master’s sent you.”

“Oh, no sir! If they ever found out I came... but Dobby had to come sir. To protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later…” Dobby turned his lamplight eyes back to Harry. “ _Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!”_

Harry and Remus sat in shocked silence for a minute.

“But– why?” asked Harry eventually.

“Terrible things will happen. There is a plot! Harry Potter must not return. Harry Potter will be in _mortal danger_ if he returns!”

“Danger _,”_ said Remus sharply. “What plot is this?”

Dobby cringed and turned back to the chest of drawers, apparently having forgotten they were still spongified, but it didn’t matter anyway as Remus grabbed hold of one skinny arm and held him in place before he could move.

“Ah, we’ll have no more of that thank you,” Remus chastised gently.

“So why can’t I go back to Hogwarts?” asked Harry, thoroughly confused at the turn his birthday had taken.

“Dobby can’t tell us, he must have been ordered not to,” Remus explained. “But given that you’re only compelled to follow your Master’s orders, the Malfoy’s are clearly involved.”

Dobby didn’t say anything but the way his eyes widened and he pinched his lips together was enough of a confirmation.

“Of course it’s the _Malfoy’s!”_ Harry spat. He’d never met any of them other than Draco but the way Draco talked about his parents meant Harry was pretty sure they’d be just as rotten as their awful son. “But I have to go back to Hogwarts. I need to see my friends–”

“Friends who don’t even _write_ to Harry Potter?” said Dobby slyly.

Harry frowned and stared at the floor and as such didn’t notice Remus take out his wand again until Dobby squeaked in fear. Remus didn’t hurt the elf, but just like with Hedwig ran his wand lightly over Dobby, and again just like with Hedwig, a puff of dark green smoke emerged from the end of it.

“Well I think we’ve found out what’s happened to your letters Harry,” said Remus.

Dobby sheepishly removed a stack of envelopes from inside his strange pillowcase tunic. Harry’s name written out in Ron’s familiar scrawl was clear on the top one.

“Harry Potter please mustn’t be angry with Dobby… Dobby had only hoped that if Harry Potter thought his friends had forgotten him… Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir,” the elf explained hesitantly.

“Well I think it’s only right that you give Harry back his property now Dobby.”

The elf hesitated, tears welling up in his eyes, but then his expression changed into one of determination and he clung to the letters even tighter.

“First Harry Potter must promise not to go back to Hogwarts, sir.”

“But I _have_ to go back!” said Harry, getting angry.

His eyes were fixed on his friends' letters and it was only Remus putting a warning hand on his arm that stopped him trying to make a grab for them.

“Mr Harry Potter must say he won’t!”

“Dobby stop, please,” said Remus firmly. “What were your Master’s exact words when he ordered you not to say, whatever it is to anyone?”

“Master Malfoy said, sir, that Dobby must never speak of this to anyone so long as he should live, sir.”

“ _This,_ he said never speak of _this?_ ”

“That’s right, sir.”

“Did he specify what _this_ was referring to?” Remus asked, the tone of voice Harry recognised as the one he always used when reminiscing about a particularly clever prank he and Harry’s dad had pulled at school, it was the one that meant mischief.

“No, sir. But Dobby knew what he implied, sir.”

“Ah, but an implication isn’t an order is it Dobby. _This_ might refer to what robes he was wearing, or the colour of the wallpaper in the room you were in. _This_ could refer to just about anything in the world. And since that’s the case, you could tell us exactly what Malfoy said and technically, you wouldn’t be disobeying an order.”

Dobby looked like he’d just been stunned. His enormous eyes bulging out even more than they were before. His grip went slack on the letters and Harry saw his chance and slipped them out of the elf’s hand and shoved them in his own pocket before they could be taken away again. Dobby didn’t even seem to notice. It was like Remus had just turned his whole world upside down. After a long, long pause Dobby started to shake and made a high-pitched shriek like a tea kettle.

“Dobby doesn’t know much, sir, but Dobby heard Master Malfoy and Mistress Malfoy talking, sir, and Master Malfoy said that there was a plot to be happening at Hogwarts _this year,_ sir! They said the school would be clean by the end of it, sir, that all of the undesirables would be gotten rid of. And Dobby knows what Master Malfoy means by undesirables, sir.”

“Muggleborns.”

“Indeed, sir! Master Malfoy said that history was to repeat itself, except this time it would be done properly, sir.”

“Is that everything Dobby?” asked Remus.

“I’m afraid so, sir. Dobby just wants to help, to protect Harry Potter, sir! Oh please say you understand now why Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts, sir,” Dobby pleaded.

Before Remus could answer there was a knock at the front door.

“Dobby must go. Master Malfoy will know Dobby is missing if he stays any longer. It will be the whip for Dobby if he does, sir.”

“I understand how much you risked to come here Dobby, thank you,” said Remus earnestly.

“Oh, yeah um, thanks,” added Harry making the elf beam.

With a crack like a whip, Dobby vanished.

Remus went to see who was at the door while Harry ripped into his friend’s letters. Devouring Ron and Hermione’s words like a man starved. Remus came and joined him with a cup of tea later, it was nearly finished by the time Harry had read them all. He set the letters to one side, fully intending to read them all again later. The knot of worry in his gut over his friend’s had finally released, only to be replaced with a different worry.

“I _am_ going back to Hogwarts this year, right Moony?”

Remus sighed.

“Obviously I need to talk to Dumbledore, try and sort this thing out. But I want you to be able to go back.”

“So, is that a yes?”

“... Barring any disasters, yes.”

Harry grinned, then sobered as another thought occurred.

“So, house-elves then?”

Remus sighed again, this time sounding pained.

“What did he mean about his family?” asked Harry.

“House-elves, at least in Britain, are generally bound to serve one family, one house, forever. They are only free if their master gives them clothes,” Remus explained.

“But if they’re not free, doesn’t that make them sort of like... slaves?”

“That's exactly what they are.”

“Malfoy has a slave."

“Look Harry, this is the sort of thing you should really learn at school, but the Wizarding World has an unfortunate habit of sweeping this sort of thing under the rug. Still you should know so I’ll explain it the best I can.”

“Explain why Malfoy has a slave,” Harry repeated flatly.

“A few centuries ago, the British Ministry of Magic abolished slavery. But it wasn’t as simple as that, you see what they actually abolished was human slavery, witches, wizards, muggles, squibs – but magical creatures were still unprotected. Certain families, wealthy families– “

“Pureblood families?”

“Not always but, yes quite a few,” Remus conceded, “suddenly finding themselves without people to wait on them hand and foot, at least none who would do so without being paid, they turned instead to house-elves. Before this house-elves were more like fae folk, faeries in the muggle folk tales I used to tell you when you were younger. Like brownies or tomte, they would often help out around the house or on the farm, do chores in exchange for something to eat and drink. They have their own kind of magic too, which is how Dobby was able to apparate in here.

Like the fae they were also very particular about how they received gratitude. Food and drink were one thing but they had no interest in money, or really any kind of material goods, clothing especially was treated as a kind of insult. They were also very careful in their language, they had to be. To a house-elf any kind of promise was essentially unbreakable. These families used this against the house-elves to trick and manipulate them into slavery. Over the years their culture and identity has been suppressed and beaten down so much, there’s hardly anything left.”

“Isn’t there anything to be done?” asked Harry uncomfortably.

“Well, like I said, the Wizarding World doesn’t like to talk about the more unsavoury parts of its history, anything that happens to show witches and wizards in a less than favourable light typically gets ignored and as a result, lots of people aren’t aware enough of the problem to do anything about it. But even for those who are aware, there’s no easy fix I’m afraid. As is so often the case, the people in the best position to do something about it are the ones who benefit the most from leaving things as they are.”

“So with the whole language thing, that’s why you asked Dobby what Mr Malfoy’s exact words were?”

“Yes, I was looking for a loophole.”

They both sat quietly for a moment, then Remus shook himself out of his thoughts.

“Come on, enough of this talk on your birthday. What do your friends say?” he asked, injecting his voice with enthusiasm.

Harry grinned, happy to change the conversation topic.

“Ron’s said if I don’t send him a letter back soon, he’s going to try and use the muggle post but he doesn’t know how many stamps to use,” Harry laughed.

“Ha! I almost want you to wait, see if he manages it.”

“He’s also asked me to come visit, can I?”

“Has Ron asked his parents?”

Harry rifled through the letters until he found one of the first ones from Ron.

“He says... mum and dad say if you want to come for the last few weeks of the holiday you can come to Diagon Alley with us to get stuff for school as long as that’s alright with your Uncle Moony,” he read.

“I take it that’s something you’d like then?” said Remus with a smirk. “Well I’d like to talk to Mr and Mrs Weasley first but I’m sure that will be fine Harry. Now before you rush off to write your friends back, why don’t we have a slice of cake.”

Over the next week both Harry and Remus put Hedwig through her paces, sending her off each time with multiple letters to different places in Britain. Hedwig seemed to take it as a matter of personal pride to deliver everything efficiently and directly to the addressee each time, clearly still ruffled over the Dobby incident. A few times Remus took the snowmobile out past the apparition border and Harry thought he was probably visiting the floo station to talk to important people about Dobby's warning, but whether that was the case or not Remus didn’t tell Harry and Harry didn’t ask, content that his guardian didn’t look worried any more than usual so things were probably working out fine.

It was decided that Harry would spend the last three weeks with Ron, missing the August full moon in the process. Remus had hesitated over that, worried that if Harry needed him during that time that he wouldn’t be able to come and get him, but Harry pointed out that Moony would be in a much rougher state for the long trip to the Burrow _after_ the moon than if they went _before_ and Remus relented. It helped that after so long without hearing from his friends, Harry was desperate to spend as much time as possible with them, something that Remus could relate to from his own school days.

The day before they left – Harry had finally convinced Moony to do side-along apparation so they didn’t have to leave at four in the morning – Remus asked Harry to come sit with him. They sat facing each other at the kitchen table and Remus handed him a small velvet, drawstring bag. Tipping its contents into his palm revealed a little copper filigree ring set with a large clear jewel. Instinctively Harry slipped it on and then jumped when it shrank down from its original size, big enough to fit an adult man, to fit Harry's right index finger snugly but comfortably.

“Anette Södergren dropped that round on your birthday,” said Remus.

“What is it?” asked Harry, twisting his hand so that the jewel caught the light.

“Something very rare, and very precious,” answered Remus. “It’s a protection stone, senses not just dark magic but also malice and ill-intent. The best, most convincing actor in the world couldn’t fool this ring.”

“So, say one of my teachers secretly wanted to kill me because Voldemort was growing out of the back of their head...”

“Then this would be able to tell you who,” said Remus, tapping the ring.

“Brilliant. How does it work?”

“The stone gets darker depending on how much danger you’re in. So if you’re interacting with someone and the stone turns a little cloudy but still quite pale, then that person probably doesn’t like you terribly much but is unlikely to actually hurt you. If it turns a sort of medium grey, then it means they might jinx you or pop you one in the nose but they don’t intend any permanent damage. On the other hand if it turns jet black...”

“Then they’re going to try and kill me,” Harry finished for him. Remus nodded.

“There’s one other thing you need to look out for, and that’s if the stone turns red. If it turns red, that means their about to use dark magic against you.”

“Isn’t that just the same as when it turns black?

“Not all dark magic is designed to kill,” Remus said quietly, a haunted faraway look entered his eye for a moment before he shook it off. “The ring itself is spelled so that only you can remove it, no one else can yank it off your finger and it won’t fall off, so as long as you’re wearing it, you can’t lose it. There’s also an adapted _Duro_ charm on it so you don’t need to worry about breaking it.”

Harry twisted it back and forth, tracing the swirling lines in the filigree.

“How come Anette had something like this? I thought she was a muggle.”

“Anette’s husband was a wizard though, she told me it was given to her by her mother-in-law, family heirloom,” said Remus.

“An heirloom. Then why has she given it to me, shouldn’t she keep it?”

Remus smiled fondly at him.

“Because she cares about you. They all do,” he explained. “We may try not to live in each other’s pockets too much up here but we’re hardly strangers. They've watched you grow up, lived with you, _loved_ you. And who could blame them.”

Harry blushed.

“Face it young man, you’re a wonderful, kind, charming person and everyone knows it,” Remus teased.

“Moony!” Harry complained, blushing even harder.


	6. Chapter 6

The next day, as usual, they took a snowmobile out beyond the border, but this time they stopped there instead of heading into town. Harry held tight to Moony’s arm and with a crack they apparated straight to the pub.

Harry begrudgingly had to admit that Remus was right, it did feel worse than the floo, and they had to take a minute with Remus rubbing his back while he retched before they entered the pub. On the other hand, it was still much quicker and nobody got splinched so all in all they counted it a success.

Hedwig was away delivering a letter for Moony and Remus had shrunk down her cage and Harry’s school trunk to fit in his pocket, so all Harry had to concentrate on was holding on to Moony as they whizzed through the floo network. They stepped out of the fireplace directly into the Weasley’s kitchen where Ron was waiting for them.

“Harry!” he shouted in excitement, pulling Harry into a hug, not even noticing the soot on him. “Thank Merlin you’re finally here. If you hadn’t written back when you did, me, Fred and George were gonna go and get you ourselves!”

“You most certainly were not!” scolded a woman Harry could only assume was Mrs Weasley. Ron rolled his eyes but Mrs Weasley didn’t notice, turning to Harry with a beaming smile instead. “Harry, wonderful to have you here. Ron’s told us all about you.”

“Thank you, you too Mrs Weasley,” said Harry politely.

“And you must be Harry’s Uncle Moony,” she said holding a hand out to Remus.

“Remus, Remus Lupin, nice to meet you. Thank you for having Harry,” answered Moony, shaking her hand.

“Oh not at all, not at all. He’s more than welcome. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?”

“That’s very kind of you, but I should get back to work,” Remus excused himself.

The adults talked for a bit longer about practical stuff like getting school supplies and getting to the train, Mrs Weasley reassured Remus again that it was no problem at all, and then Moony said his goodbyes, gave him a hug, wished him luck at school, reminded him to write, all the usual stuff, and was gone.

The next three weeks were brilliant. Mrs Weasley spent the whole time trying to feed him up and Mr Weasley, when Harry finally met him, spent most mealtimes quizzing Harry on everything he knew about muggles and the Muggle World. Luckily for Harry, Ron had told his family the travel lie Harry had told him at first, so anything he didn’t get quite right he could explain away as a cultural thing.

Hedwig had arrived at the Burrow a few days after Harry had which he was particularly thankful for after the trip to Diagon Alley. Harry was sure Ron would have let him use Errol if he’d needed to, but like Hermione had said in her last letter to the pair of them, he was half convinced a trip to London would be enough to finish him off, never mind one all the way to Sweden. In his letter Harry told Moony all about what he'd overheard Malfoy say in Borgin and Burkes, as well as their encounter in the bookshop. It had been the first chance he got to test out the ring, which Harry reassured Remus had only turned a bit cloudy, which was unsurprising. Still the way that Mr Malfoy had looked at Ron, Ginny, and Hermione made Harry wish he had enough rings to give to his friends to keep them safe too.

He skated over the embarrassing incident with Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry didn’t want to think about it, and since Remus read The Daily Prophet, he’d find out about it anyway, as well as the fight between Mr Malfoy and Mr Weasley. He also told Remus about Ron’s theory when he explained everything with Dobby, Ron was convinced that there wasn’t any danger and that Draco and his father had just cooked up this plot to stop Harry going back to Hogwarts. Harry wasn’t so convinced and he didn’t think Moony would be either but he added it in anyway. He was even less convinced when it came time to catch the Hogwarts Express and they couldn’t get past the barrier, sure even _Draco_ wouldn’t go that far.

If Professor Dumbledore’s disappointment was bad, it was nothing compared to Moony’s disappointment. The letter that arrived a few days into the start of term was practically dripping with it. Harry almost wished Remus had sent him a Howler like Mrs Weasley had sent Ron, rather than the letter he got instead. He could see Moony’s expression as he read the words and it lingered in the back of his mind even as his fellow students congratulated him on the stunt. Harry sent a letter back to say sorry, but otherwise all he could do was hope it would blow over soon.

Things weren’t much better at school for the next few weeks. People got over the car thing pretty quickly but Draco was as awful as ever, whatever had happened at the end of his first year to stop Snape picking on him apparently wasn’t enough to stop him continuing right where he left off this year, made worse by the fact that Snape was still annoyed that Harry and Ron hadn’t been expelled over the car thing, and then there was Gilderoy Lockhart... there was no getting around it. The man was an idiot.

There was one silver lining to his appointment as their new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, and that was the fact that Harry had only to mention it in his letter once and Moony seemed to immediately move past his disappointment at Harry in favour of expressing in great detail just how much of a propped-up, self-involved, foolhardy idiot he considered one Gilderoy Lockhart.

Moony’s description was so good, Harry ended up sharing it with Ron who laughed until he was red in the face with tears streaming and declared Remus a genius of a bloke. The drawback to this was that for the next few DADA lessons, Harry had to be very careful not to catch Ron’s eye or they’d both end up cracking up.

Things settled down for a while until Halloween came around again. Harry, along with Ron and Hermione, had let himself get dragged into going to Nearly Headless Nick's Deathday Party, missing the Feast in the process which was bad enough, but then they ran across a dead Mrs Norris while Harry was trying to track down a voice that apparently only he could hear. If it wasn’t for Ron’s warning and the fact that Harry knew about the secret passage behind the tapestry thanks to Moony’s stories, they’d have been caught by the returning dinner crowd and who knows what would’ve happened then. He’d probably be expelled or something. When they got back to the common room after everyone else it was clear their absence didn’t go completely unnoticed.

“Where the hell have you two been?” asked Seamus as Harry and Ron entered the dorm.

“Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday Party,” said Ron.

“This whole time?” asked Neville nervously, he wasn’t particularly fond of the ghosts and an entire evening in their company probably sounded like a nightmare.

“We went down to the Great Hall afterwards to get something to eat but everyone had already left,” invented Harry.

“You missed all the excitement,” pointed out Dean.

“What, did the pumpkins put on a show or something?”

“No, someone killed Filch's cat!”

“ _What?”_ Ron and Harry exclaimed, as if they hadn’t actually been the first ones on the scene.

“Yeah! It was super creepy, we were all coming back from the feast and there she was, just hanging upside down from one of the torches,” said Seamus. “And there was all this creepy writing on the wall next to her written in _blood_.”

“It wasn’t blood Seamus,” said Dean.

“It might’ve been, it was red wasn’t it.”

“But what did it say?” asked Harry.

“The Chamber of Secrets has been opened,” said Seamus in a dramatic voice. “Enemies beware.”

“Enemies of the heir beware,” corrected Neville quietly.

“What do you reckon that means?” asked Ron.

“Dunno, there’s a nutter running around school. My money’s on it being a Slytherin,” said Seamus to the sound of general agreement from everyone else.

Harry went to bed that night with his head buzzing, and at the back of his mind the thought that he really had no idea how he was going to explain this all to Moony.

The next day they found out that Mrs Norris wasn’t dead after all, but she had been petrified. Harry was going to send a letter to Moony asking if he knew anything about the Chamber of Secrets but to everyone’s surprise, Hermione convinced Professor Binns to tell them about it instead.

Harry, Ron and Hermione all thought Malfoy had to be behind it, their plan to prove it though hit a snag before it even got going. They needed in to the Restricted Section, the only way to do that was with a permission note from a teacher, and the only teacher dumb enough to sign something without checking it first was one Gilderoy Lockhart, which meant Harry had to play nice. Lockhart had been trying his patience every lesson by forcing Harry to re-enact scenes from his books with him, unfortunately the day in which the trio had picked to put their plan into action was the one lesson Lockhart pushed it too far, when he tried to get Harry to re-enact the climactic scene in his book _Wanderings with Werewolves._

Harry had spat out some kind of excuse involving the Hospital Wing and walked out of the lesson before he gave into his desire to hex Lockhart, maybe with a nice Furnunculus curse, see if the prat was still smirking when his face erupted into a mass of big, disgusting boils.

He didn’t go to the Hospital Wing, instead he paced the empty halls trying to calm down until he unexpectedly bumped into Professor McGonagall who demanded to know why he wasn’t in class. Harry tried to tell her the same excuse he’d given Lockhart but whether it was the way he’d said it or the look on his face Professor McGonagall clearly didn’t buy it and ordered him to follow her. He didn’t see why she couldn’t have just given him detention where they were instead of making him walk all the way to her office first, Harry thought grumpily. She opened the door and indicated for Harry to take the seat opposite her at the desk.

“Have a biscuit, Potter.”

“Sorry?”

“Have a biscuit,” she repeated, nudging an assortment box towards him, half full of biscuits.

Hesitantly Harry took out a custard cream and nibbled on a corner, while McGonagall chose a Garibaldi for herself.

“How have you been getting on in your lessons Potter?” she asked once she’d finished.

“Um, fine I guess,” answered Harry.

“No problems with any of your teachers, Professor Snape for instance?”

“No more than usual.”

“And how are you liking our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor?”

Harry couldn’t help the way his expression changed but to his surprise McGonagall didn’t scold him, in fact it looked like she was trying to hold back a smile.

“Yes, he does seem to cause strong emotions doesn’t he. One way or another,” she said quietly. With a flick of her wand she summoned a pot of tea and poured them both a cup. “Perhaps you could tell me what happened in your lesson today Potter. At least for the five minutes you attended.” She added a little sharply.

Harry fidgeted in his seat, stalling by taking a sip of the tea, even though it was still too hot and he burnt the tip of his tongue in the process.

“Lockhart–”

“ _Professor_ Lockhart.”

“... he keeps making me re-enact bits of his books with him.”

“Hm, well I can see why that might be uncomfortable for you. Despite the incident at the start of the school year I don’t believe I’m mistaken in thinking you don’t relish being the centre of attention Potter?”

Harry shook his head.

“Yes, you take after your guardian more than your father in that respect,” she said almost like an afterthought. “So you had enough and chose to leave instead, but why now? What was different about this lesson?”

Harry hesitated. He knew that Professor McGonagall had taught Remus when he was at Hogwarts, her last comment showed that she knew him, but Harry didn’t know if she knew _enough_. But then, Moony had said McGonagall was one of his favourite teachers so surely that would mean...

“He wanted to re-enact his defeat against the Wagga Wagga werewolf,” said Harry. Hopefully if she knew, McGonagall would be able to fill in the blanks, and it seemed she did just that.

“Ah. I see how that would be especially galling. From what I’ve heard Professor Lockhart does seem to have a proclivity for embellishment far beyond the fact.”

“He talks a load of rubbish,” Harry grumbled.

McGonagall shot him a quelling look and Harry ducked her gaze but didn’t take it back. It was the truth after all.

“As it happens, you’re not the only one that has complaints about Professor Lockhart, Potter. Several of my fifth- and seventh-year students have expressed a certain uneasiness to me about how his unorthodox teaching method is going to affect their exam preparations. Along with my fellow Heads of House, I’ve passed their concerns on to the Headmaster, and as I understand it, Professor Dumbledore is planning on sitting down with Professor Lockhart later today,” she informed him.

Harry relaxed, knowing that other people had complained and that something was being done made it easier to let go of some of his anger.

“Before you go Potter there is one last thing,” said Professor McGonagall, and Harry stiffened at the earnestness in her voice. “No doubt your guardian has explained to you the unfortunate regard in which people with his condition are held in our society.”

Harry nodded.

“While it is a testament to you, that you should feel such anger and offence on your guardian’s behalf, you must keep in mind that such feelings when not kept in check can become more of a hindrance than a help. While I do not normally condone students abandoning their lessons, in this instance you chose to walk away rather than lash out as no doubt you were tempted to, and that was well done. You showed a maturity beyond many of your fellow students. The next step however is to let your anger go.”

Harry tensed and scowled at a spot on the floor. He’d let some of it go, wasn’t that enough?

“Hard as it may be to accept, the Gilderoy Lockhart’s of the world, while they may be frustrating and ignorant, are not the main problem and are not worth your anger. As we speak there are people with far more power and influence using their position to make life much harder for people like Mr Lupin.”

“So you're saying... I should save my anger for them?”

“Anger is a natural reaction to injustice Mr Potter, we must simply be mindful of where we direct it,” she smiled. There was a hardness behind it that made Harry think that the last person to truly anger McGonagall was probably left regretting it to this day. “Do come to me if you have any further problems Mr Potter, enjoy the rest of your day.”

“I got Professor Lockhart to sign the note if you’re interested,” said Hermione a little snippily once Harry caught up with them afterwards.

“It was just like we thought, the idiot didn’t even look to see what book we wanted,” said Ron.

“He is _not_ an idiot,” defended Hermione, storming ahead to the library. Ron rolled his eyes.

Hermione’s blind fawning over Lockhart had been annoying before but now it was making Harry angry. It was only McGonagall’s words floating around in his head that stopped him snapping at her. Luckily for Harry, Ron was finding it annoying as well.

“Of all people I can’t believe _you’re_ defending Lockhart, Hermione,” said Ron half-running to catch up with her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I know he’s a blessed teacher so that means you’re in love with him or whatever,” Hermione squawked in protest. “But he’s not exactly a good one, is he? I mean what has he taught us this year, that his favourite colour's purple–”

“Lilac,” Hermione corrected.

“Same thing, the point is what has that got to do with Defence Against the Dark Arts? You know the subject he’s _supposed_ to be teaching us. He goes on and on about all these amazing things he says he’s done but does he show us how to do them? No. Does he show us any magic? No. Have we used any magic at all since you, not Lockhart, _you_ stopped those pixies in our very first lesson? No!”

Hermione’s face scrunched up as if she couldn’t decide on whether to be flattered or continue being annoyed.

“I don’t think he even did half the stuff he says!” continued Ron.

“That’s ridiculous, of course he did,” she snapped, settling on annoyed.

“Not all of it,” said Harry, trying very hard to stay calm. “The Homorphus Charm doesn’t work like that. It’s dangerous to use on werewolves and it doesn’t cure them. Nothing cures lycanthropy."

Hermione paled, understanding beginning to dawn at last.

“Oh Harry, I’m sorry I didn’t– of course, you’re uncle...”

After that Hermione seemed to re-evaluate her opinion on Lockhart. She was still the first one with her hand in the air whenever he asked a question, after all some things never changed, but she didn’t blush every time Lockhart smiled at her anymore. She also stopped defending him every time Ron and Harry complained, though she still frowned at the various rude names Ron came up with, they were insulting a teacher after all. 

After what he did to Harry’s arm after the Quidditch match and his embarrassing performance at the Duelling Club however, Hermione couldn’t bring herself to even do that much.

The Duelling Club was an unexpected but welcome surprise for Harry. He hadn’t had a chance to practice since school started, and since he, Ron and Hermione had all decided to stay at Hogwarts for the Christmas holidays, he wouldn’t have had another opportunity otherwise until he saw Moony again at Easter. Harry was also interested to see what it would be like duelling against someone his own age.

Snape had paired him with Malfoy. Their smirks clearly indicated that they both expected Draco would trounce Harry easily. Neither of them counted on the fact that Harry had been training to duel since he was seven years old, and Remus hadn’t stuck to the board-certified moves either, he was preparing Harry for much bigger and more dangerous opponents than Malfoy after all. As such, even when Draco started on ‘two’ of the countdown, Harry was already prepared with a shield charm and the hex bounced harmlessly off it. A quick disarming charm sent Draco's wand flying out of his hand and once Lockhart called a halt, he stomped red-faced and fuming over to get it.

Snape had clearly been watching them and sneered at Harry even as he ordered the pair of them up for a demonstration. Lockhart was trying, and failing, to demonstrate a shield charm to Harry but Harry ignored him, preoccupied by the fact that Snape was whispering something to Malfoy and the pair were smirking again.

Lockhart counted down again and Harry prepared to attack first this time but he didn’t get a chance.

“ _Serpensortia!”_ bellowed Draco and a long black snake exploded out of the end of Draco's wand.

Before Harry could attempt to vanish it, Lockhart stepped forth, brandishing his wand.

“Allow me!”

With a bang the snake flew several feet into the air and landed with a thump. Now furious, the snake shot directly towards Justin Finch-Fletchley. Before he could think about it, Harry dove forward and grabbed the snake by the tail and yanked. The snake twisted around, fangs bared and Harry screamed.

“Stop!”

To his shock the snake did just that, its mouth shut with a snap and its head dropped to rest on its coiled-up length. Harry awkwardly got to his feet and only then realised the hall had fallen completely silent. He turned to look at Justin but the Hufflepuff, along with everyone else was simply staring at him in shock. Ron tugged the back of his robes until Harry got the hint and, along with Hermione, the three left the hall as Snape vanished the snake.

They made it all the way back to the common room without saying a word. It was only when the portrait swung shut behind them that Ron burst out, “You’re a Parselmouth. Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I’m a what?” said Harry.

“It means you can talk to snakes,” explained Hermione.

“What? No I can’t.”

“Yes, you can. Half the school just heard you do it!” said Ron. “You didn’t know?”

“Wait, no – I... we don’t exactly get many snakes in north Sweden! Anyway what’s the big deal, I’m sure loads of people here can do it.”

“No Harry they can’t, this is really bad.”

“What, why? If I hadn’t had told it to stop when it attacked Justin–”

“So that’s what you said to it.”

“Well, yeah. You were right there; didn’t you hear me?”

“You were speaking Parseltongue Harry, to the rest of is it sounded like, well like hissing,” said Hermione.

“Okay that’s kind of weird. But I still don’t understand what’s so bad about this?”

“Because Salazar Slytherin was a Parselmouth, it’s what he was famous for. That’s why the symbol of his house is a serpent.”

“Huh, I always thought that was just because of his name,” commented Ron. “Slytherin. Sounds like slithery, snakes are... but anyway back to the fact that now everyone’s going to think Harry’s Slytherin’s great-great-great-grandson or whatever.”

“Except I’m _not!”_

“He lived a thousand years ago Harry,” said Hermione. “For all we know, you could be.”

“Look, don’t worry about it mate. It was pretty obvious you were trying to save Justin not hurt him. Anyone would have to be an idiot to think you’re the one going round attacking muggleborns,” Ron reassured him.

As if Harry could ever be that lucky.

The rumour mill got to work immediately. By the end of the week the story had changed so that there hadn’t been just one snake but three, and depending on who you asked, either Harry single-handedly wrestled them into submission in a heroic act of derring-do, or used his dark Parselmouth powers to set them on Justin. Both stories agreed that Justin had barely escaped with his life. The fact that outside of classes the Hufflepuff spent all of his time hiding in the common room was taken as proof.

Unfortunately for Harry, the second version of events was by far the most popular and most of the students had started to give him a wide berth wherever he went, and conversation ceased the moment he walked into a room. The exception of course being the Slytherins who took great pleasure in taunting him with loud hissing noises every time they passed him in the halls. Most disconcerting however was how on several occasions, Harry had looked up during Potions or at dinner time and found Snape watching him with a considering look on his face, until he noticed Harry looking back at him of course, then it turned back into a familiar scowl.

His only comfort was the fact that Ron and Hermione stuck by him and the letter he had received from Moony in reaction to Harry’s rather panicked – _Moony do you know if I’m descended from Salazar Slytherin also did you know I was a **Parselmouth**??? – _note he’d sent immediately after the conversation with his friends about his newfound talent.

_It’s not entirely out of the realm of possibility that you may be related to Salazar Slytherin somehow, all of the ‘pureblood’ families are interrelated to some degree. As for being a direct descendant however I think that’s very unlikely. I’m sure your dad would have complained about it if that had been the case._

Had been Moony’s calm response.

_I did not know you were a Parselmouth. It’s a very rare power, but before you panic, know that despite its reputation it is **not** a dark one. If you need reassurance, try using your ability with the ring and be comforted when it doesn’t turn red._

Harry had tried but it seemed like he couldn’t speak Parseltongue unless he was face to face with a snake, and he didn’t know what spell Draco had used to create one.

Things only got worse after Justin Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick were attacked. Even Dumbledore and Hagrid's defence of him wasn’t doing much to make him feel better, and Harry, Ron and Hermione started taking refuge more and more often in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Keeping a watchful eye on the Polyjuice Potion that was nearly ready in the meantime.

It was on their way back from checking on the potion a day or two before Christmas when an older student approached them with a note from the Headmaster, asking Harry to come to his office.

Harry was nervous as he climbed the hidden staircase. Maybe their last conversation hadn’t gone as well as he thought, Harry fretted. Perhaps Professor Dumbledore had changed his mind about Harry’s innocence, maybe he knew Harry was hiding something and was going to make him tell him.

He knew he was being a bit dramatic but it was still a relief when he opened the door to a familiar face.

“Moony!”

“Hey, sprog!” beamed Remus, catching Harry in an enormous hug.

“What are you doing here?”

“I needed to have a chat with Professor Dumbledore, and since I was here anyway I thought why not take the opportunity to give you your Christmas present in person,” Remus explained.

“I’ll give you two a moment to catch up,” Dumbledore excused himself with a smile.

Remus nodded in thanks and waited for the door to close firmly before he turned back to Harry.

“So how are you really?” he asked, guiding him into the other seat opposite the Headmaster’s desk.

Harry sighed.

“I’m alright,” said Harry. “People are still acting dumb about the whole Parselmouth thing which is kind of annoying.”

“I'm sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’ve still got Ron and Hermione. And Fred and George joke about it a lot which makes me feel better.”

“Hm, they’re good friends. Fred and George, those are the Weasley twins right?”

“Yep, Ron’s older brothers... but Moony, all this, everything that’s happening. It’s Malfoy isn’t it.”

Remus sighed and slumped.

“They’re clearly involved somehow Harry, but we don’t know how and we have no proof.”

“But Dobby–”

“Dobby's word won’t be enough for the Ministry, even if he weren’t a house-elf,” said Remus with regret. “Malfoy has too much influence, the Ministry only got around to raiding their manor last week, our tip off was all the way back in August.”

“Ron’s dad told him they didn’t find anything.”

“Mm, didn’t expect them to after what you saw in Knockturn Alley really. The Ministry dragged their feet long enough that anything he didn’t sell off; Malfoy has probably hidden very well.”

The conversation made Harry particularly glad that the Polyjuice Potion was so close to being ready. In a few days they’d have the proof they needed and no one else would get hurt. As his thoughts drifted, he forgot who was with him.

“Harry, what are you thinking?” asked Remus sharply, recognising something in his expression that made him wary.

“Nothing,” said Harry, pasting on his best innocent look.

“Harry,” repeated Remus unimpressed.

“Really Moony it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I always worry about you,” Remus muttered, rolling his eyes. “Look, whatever you’re planning, please just promise me you will be careful, won’t you?”

“I promise Moony,” Harry swore.


	7. Chapter 7

Remus couldn’t help himself fretting about what Harry was up to. The rest of the conversation had turned to lighter subjects afterwards, but that look on Harry’s face was one he’d seen more times than he could count on James' and it rarely ended well for everyone. Remus just hoped Harry wouldn’t be the one to suffer in the end.

All year had been a kind of juggling act between his life at the commune, a mixture of tutoring, work and the day-to-day bustle, and his correspondence with Hogwarts. He’d had to strike a careful balance in his communications with Dumbledore. There was only so much that could be said through the written word, and only so much Remus dared to put in a letter. As Dobby had so helpfully proved, there was no guarantee of security there. On the other hand, speaking in person was something Remus couldn’t afford to do more than on the rare occasion and in case of emergency.

Not that his correspondence had borne any fruit. Dumbledore had told him what he knew of the Chamber of Secrets, including the events that he had been witness to fifty years ago. He hadn’t spoken of his suspicions but Remus could guess them all the same. Every Order member knew the name Tom Riddle after all. But that didn’t help them much with the situation this time, and there was bugger all Remus could do hundreds of miles away in Sweden.

Several nights he’d spent lying awake, arguing with himself about whether or not to take Harry out of school. Remus was no fool. No matter how much he might plead with him to keep his head down, Harry would still end up right in the middle of the trouble, by his own will or someone else’s. He took after James that way. Taking Harry out of Hogwarts might end up being the only way to protect him. Of course that would mean taking him away from his friends, not to mention disrupting his education. Schools weren’t generally in the habit of taking students this late in the year. They might make an exception for The-Boy-Who-Lived but there was no guarantee...

Sensing his distress perhaps, Anette had stopped him after tutoring one day to ask if Harry was still wearing the ring. When Remus confirmed he was, Anette had responded with a simple ‘then no need to worry'. The woman did not mince words.

A few months after Christmas and Remus put it out of his mind for a while, there had been no new attacks, and in his last letter Harry said people were finally getting past the Parselmouth incident, things seemed to have calmed down. One day Remus would learn not to get his hopes up.

The letter that had arrived was not from Albus but Minerva. In a few hurried sentences it explained why. Dumbledore had been suspended from his position as Headmaster of Hogwarts as voted for by the school governors. Lucius Malfoy had delivered the Order of Suspension personally.

Remus wouldn’t have to make a decision after all it seemed. Minerva wrote that she believed it was only a matter of time now before the school closed.

Harry’s letter arrived two weeks later. Students were no longer permitted to go anywhere outside their common rooms unaccompanied by a teacher so getting to the Owlery had become a trial and a half. Harry had tried to reassure him and Remus had to smile, but it was clear he was shaken. Hermione had been petrified.

He was distracted while duelling with Nikita Nilsson and by the third time she’d disarmed him without much effort Nikita had clearly had enough.

“If you’re not going to challenge me then there is really no point at all!” she snapped.

“I’m sorry,” said Remus, wiping the dew off his wand where it had landed in the grass.

“We might as well go and have a drink then. Come on,” Nikita ordered, walking back in the direction of her cabin.

“It’s a little early for me actually,” Remus protested but followed her anyway. Nikita ignored him, pulling out two glasses as he took a seat at the table.

“Red wine or Snaps?”

“Um, Snaps I guess.”

Nikita poured one for each of them, took a large sip of her own then levelled him with an expectant look that told him she would sit there all day if she had to.

“Out with it.”

Remus sighed.

“Just worrying about Harry, that’s all.”

“Naturally, you’re a good parent.”

“I try my best,” said Remus. “I’m no replacement for his mum and dad though.”

“Perhaps,” Nikita conceded. “But you’re what he has now. We all do our best but who knows in the end. Still, your parents raised a good man, I’m sure you will raise another.”

Remus smiled gratefully.

“They accepted you then.”

“Hm?”

“Your parents,” Nikita explained. “You do not have the bitterness of those whose parents rejected them, like me,” she added quietly.

Remus nodded sympathetically but didn’t offer any platitudes knowing how little they helped, and pity had no place in the commune.

“No they didn’t reject me,” he confirmed. “If they had I probably wouldn’t be here today. I was turned very young.”

“You say they did not reject you, but you do not say they accepted you.”

Remus hesitated. “They did the best they could,” he said eventually.

Nikita pursued her lips in thought.

“I take after my mother,” she said, abruptly changing the subject. “We did not get along well, even before. Too similar.”

“My mother always used to say I take after my father,” said Remus.

“And do you?”

“I guess. I mean he was away a lot when I was growing up and after I left school, I didn’t visit home much so I don’t really... he was a quiet man.”

“Ah, like my father. He worked away often.”

“Yes well, it wasn’t so much that he was working. He did work a lot, we didn’t ever have much money so he worked many jobs, very long hours. But whenever he wasn’t working, he travelled all over the world, looking for a cure. Which to be honest was probably the main reason why we never had any money,” Remus smiled self-deprecatingly. “Any money that didn’t go towards food or keeping the lights on, just about, went to every snake-oil con artist, fraudster, and well-meaning crackpot the world over.”

“By Blåkulla!”

“Obviously, none of it worked. Sometimes it even made it worse but they were desperate. Eventually, after I’d been attending Hogwarts for a few years, I convinced them to stop wasting their money.”

Nikita downed the rest of her drink while Remus fidgeted. He hadn’t thought about his childhood in some time, at least not the time before he went to Hogwarts. He wasn’t sure why he was even thinking about it now, never mind talking about it.

“There may yet be hope,” said Nikita. “My husband was telling me of the new potion that could help us. The Wolfsbane Potion.”

“Yes I suppose there is that,” said Remus lacklustre. He’d looked into the Wolfsbane potion when it had first been announced but found that, even if it had been within Remus' limited potions making abilities, the ingredients would cost more than he made even in a good month.

Nikita sighed, getting to her feet.

“The boys will be back from school soon. I will make you a coffee, shall I?” she said rolling her eyes at the still untouched glass of Snaps in front of Remus, but it was good-natured and she waved off Remus' sheepish apology and thanks that followed.

It was with an odd sense of déjà vu that Remus flooed into the Headmaster’s office to find Minerva waiting for him, snitch charm in hand. This time however she didn’t lead him on a frenzied chase down any secret passages after his wayward charge, but took him straight to the hospital wing where said charge was recovering. Once again he’d been too late to stop Harry charging head first into danger, although this time Harry had escaped it without his help.

Harry was sitting up in one of the cots when Remus entered, Poppy was attending to another of her patients, and not seeing any sign of blood or bandages Remus didn’t hesitate to pull Harry into a hug. Only when Harry started to fidget did he pull away, though he kept one of Harry’s hands clasped between his.

“I'm sorry Moony.”

“Please Harry, just tell me what happened,” said Remus patiently.

“Okay well um... me and Ron found this book and Ron told me not to touch it cause it might be dangerous, but I figured if that’s the case then we can’t just leave it for someone else to find, but it seemed fine anyway because I picked it up and it was just a blank diary of someone called Tom Riddle–”

Remus tensed in horror but Harry didn’t notice and kept going.

“– and I found out that if you wrote in it Tom wrote back, and he showed me this memory of when the Chamber of Secrets opened last time where it looked like Hagrid was the one who opened it and Riddle told and got him expelled. Ron said he reckoned Riddle was a dirty rotten snitch and none of us thought Hagrid could really be responsible so Hermione suggested we go and ask him, only that was when the Minister of Magic came and took him away. But anyway we found out that Hagrid was innocent like we thought, and Hermione was petrified but before that she worked out that the monster that was petrifying everyone was a basilisk, so me and Ron went to tell the Professors but then we overheard them saying that Ron’s sister Ginny had been taken by the monster into the chamber.

Lockhart was supposed to go after her but it turns out he’s a liar and everything in his books other people had done he just took credit, and he tried to attack us but my ring warned me and I disarmed him before he could, but there wasn’t time to get anyone else and you need Parseltongue to open the Chamber so we took Lockhart with us and went in to find Ginny. Only then Lockhart stole Ron’s wand and tried to attack us _again_ but it backfired and caused a cave in and there wasn’t _time_ so I went ahead while Ron tried to dig out a passage.”

Remus' head was reeling but Harry wasn’t finished yet.

“I found Ginny but she was unconscious and she had the diary and Tom Riddle was there too! He started gloating about how he’d been making Ginny do all this stuff and he was the heir of Slytherin, and he was Voldemort, or I guess he was going to become Voldemort or something. I tried to duel him Moony, I really did but none of my spells would hit him! It was like he was a ghost except not see-through, more like Peeves except he wasn’t floating and he was killing Ginny to become more real or something. And then he called the basilisk, and Fawkes showed up with the Sorting Hat and a sword, and I stabbed the basilisk and killed it but before that it bit me–”

“It bit you!” said Remus, once again searching Harry for any sign of a bandage.

“No, no but it was fine because Fawkes cried on it and it healed up completely, and I stabbed the diary with the basilisk fang, and Riddle kind of exploded? But Ginny woke up then and Fawkes carried us all out of the Chamber and Mr Malfoy turned up because Dumbledore had come back and he was _mad,_ because it was him that snuck the diary into Ginny’s cauldron back when we saw him in Diagon Alley. And then I tricked him into freeing Dobby which made him even _more_ mad, but Dobby blasted him away before he could do anything and he stormed off. And Dumbledore called for a feast to celebrate but me and Ron came here first because the mandrakes are ready and Hermione’s supposed to wake up any minute now, and I just... I’m really tired actually.”

After just hearing all of that, so was Remus.

“I really am sorry Moony.”

“No, no Harry you don’t need to apologise. What you did was reckless and dangerous yes, but also brave and selfless. Once again you should _never_ have been put in this position and I am so sorry for that.”

“Moony it’s not your–”

“It is Harry, it is. You’re a child. As capable and mature as you are, you’re still a child and no kid should ever have to face what you have tonight, or last year. And that’s on us adults, it’s our responsibility to protect you and we failed, _I_ failed. And I am truly sorry for that.”

“It’s okay Moony, I forgive you,” said Harry squeezing Remus' hands affectionately. “I’m still sorry I made you worry though.”

“Ah, what are a few more grey hairs in the grand scheme of things,” Remus waved off. “I am proud of you sprog.”

Once again Remus offered to take Harry home early and once again Harry chose to stay at school until the end of term. Hermione had woken up shortly after their conversation and Remus left Harry to attend the surprise celebration feast with his friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter one but it felt like a natural stopping point before moving on to third year.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally onto the third year!

It was a few days before Harry’s thirteenth birthday and Harry looked up with interest as Hedwig flew through the open kitchen window with an envelope. Without the well-meaning interference of a certain house-elf Harry had happily been communicating with his friends all summer. To Remus' relief, Harry didn’t seem too traumatised by the events at the end of his last school year, but talking to his friends seemed to be doing Harry tremendous good either way. Remus had always made sure that Harry knew he could come to him with anything, but he also knew that there were some things a boy felt more comfortable talking to his friends about than his guardian.

As it was, the letter Hedwig delivered that day was addressed to Remus not Harry, and after fetching some owl treats for Hedwig, he returned to the kitchen table to read it while he finished his breakfast. By the time Remus got to the end, he felt like bringing his breakfast back up.

“Moony, are you okay?” asked Harry. Remus had paled considerably.

“Yes I’m fine,” he answered over his shoulder as he rushed out of the room to fetch some parchment and a quill. He scrawled out a few short lines and then raced outside to beg the use of someone else’s owl, not able to wait until Hedwig had recovered.

The next couple of days he spent on edge. Remus could hide it from the rest of the commune but not from Harry who was clearly worried. It didn’t help that Remus had subtly tried to keep Harry in sight as much as possible to the point of checking in on him multiple times in the night. The rest of the time he spent obsessively going over the wards in place around their cabin and the commune itself.

The day before Harry’s birthday he asked Harry to stay with Niklas and his family for a few hours, and promised to explain everything when he returned a little later. After that, Remus took the now very familiar trip down to the floo station and through to Dumbledore’s office.

“Is there any news?” he asked without preamble.

“Nothing so far I’m afraid,” said the Headmaster.

“Harry cannot come back here if he’s not found.” Remus dropped his head into his hands. “I shouldn’t have let him come back last year, look what happened. Who’s running Beauxbatons these days, Madame Maxime? I could write to her, try and get Harry in, or screw it! Why stay in Europe, Harry’s a bright kid, I’m sure he could pick up Mandarin.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves Remus, this is no time for drastic actions,” Dumbledore interrupted his ramblings.

“But it _is_ drastic Albus! Just look at what’s happened. Twice Voldemort has found Harry and tried to kill him while he’s been here and now Siri-, and now _he’s_ escaped!”

Remus jumped up and started to pace.

“Hogwarts is a thoroughly warded fortress.”

“Oh please, while we were here it was practically his mission in life to find as many ways in and out of the castle without being seen.”

Remus stopped and leant on the back of the chair, taking several deep breaths until he felt more in control. Dumbledore watched him calmly from over the top of his half moon glasses and waited.

“Last year I was too late,” he choked out eventually. “All year I’m too far away to do anything, and then something happens and I get there too late to save Harry. I was barely in time the first time, I was too late last time, if it happens again there’s no guarantee that Harry won’t...”

“Perhaps the answer then is not to stop Harry attending Hogwarts, but to have you come with him.”

Remus frowned in confusion.

“How would you like to be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor Mr Lupin?” asked Dumbledore with a twinkle in his eye.

Remus gaped.

“Wha‐ I don’t... I er,” he scrambled to get his words together. “I imagine you might get some strong objections to hiring someone like me.”

“Hiring decisions are at my discretion. As for your condition, that is your personal business, just as when you were a student, I’m sure we can keep it on a need to know basis.”

“And what about people already in the know, people who have a vested interest in seeing me dragged off by aurors and Harry miserable.”

Dumbledore knew exactly who he was talking about and huffed in disapproval but didn’t deny it.

“The Ministry is unaware that Harry is under your guardianship and I see no reason why that should change, as such the aurors have no reason to take you away–”

“Do they need a reason for people like me,” Remus muttered under his breath, but Dumbledore ignored him.

“– as for Severus, he kept your secret after the unfortunate incident in your fifth year, I can’t imagine he wouldn’t continue to do so.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. True, Snape may never have told anyone _outright_ about Remus' condition, but that hadn’t stopped him making plenty of sly comments and leading remarks to anyone who would listen, which thankfully had only really been Lily who dismissed him every time. Even when Remus had eventually told Lily the truth, she was wonderfully supportive and certainly didn’t reject him as Snape had no doubt hoped.

“Nevertheless,” added Dumbledore, “I will speak to Severus and reaffirm his silence on the matter.”

It was certainly a tempting offer.

“I truly think this is the best solution for everyone Remus. You’re certainly qualified enough. Harry himself is a testament to your abilities as a teacher, and you were always one of our best students when it came to defence. And should anything happen, not that it will, you will be at hand to intervene.”

Remus waited to talk to Harry until after his birthday. Harry was clearly curious but Remus didn’t want to risk sullying the day with grim topics.

Before he joined Harry at the table he went to his bedroom and took out the newspaper in the top drawer of his side table and brought it with him, leaving it on the chair for now.

Harry waited patiently while Remus got his thoughts in order.

“Okay, Harry,” he started. “I had hoped we wouldn’t have to have this conversation until you were a little older but uh... well here we go. Have you ever heard the name Sirius Black?” Remus winced as his voice cracked on the name.

“No.”

“Okay. So the thing is, when we were at school, me and your dad I mean, it wasn’t just us.”

“I know, there was also Peter,” said Harry.

“Yes, yes there was, but what I mean to say is that it wasn’t just the three of us. There were actually four.”

“So Sirius Black, that’s the name you never say,” said Harry after a pause.

Remus jolted. “What?”

“Whenever you tell me stories about you and my dad at school, not always but sometimes it’s like you go to say a name but you stop yourself at the last second, and then you look sad,” Harry explained quietly. “It’s Sirius Black isn’t it?”

Remus nodded; his jaw clenched against the prickle of tears behind his eyes.

“So, what happened to him? Is he dead too, like Uncle Peter and my parents?”

“No, he’s not dead,” said Remus dully. Better if he had been, he thought to himself. “The four of us were the best of friends, but Sirius and your dad especially were, well they were more like brothers they were so close. Practically attached at the hip from the very first day of school. And after school, and you came along, no one was surprised when Lily and James named Sirius your godfather.”

“He was my godfather!”

Remus nodded, then paused again.

“The thing about Sirius, is that he came from a family who were... rather like the Malfoy’s, obsessed with blood purity, bigoted people. But Sirius was different, he didn’t believe what they believed, he was sorted into Gryffindor, he was fascinated by Muggle culture, befriended a werewolf,” Remus smiled self-deprecatingly. “Naturally he was always at odds with his family, and eventually things came to a head and when he was sixteen, the Black's disinherited him, Sirius ran away and went to live with James and your grandparents. The war had started by the time we left school and we all joined the fight. There was a group that Professor Dumbledore set up whose specific aim was to defeat Voldemort and we all became members. I tell you all of this so that you know that we had no reason to think—I mean we never could have guessed…”

Remus broke off again and Harry fidgeted on the edge of his seat.

“The war stretched on and things started to go wrong,” he continued at last, eyes fixed on the table. “We found out that there was a mole in the Order, someone was leaking information to Voldemort, but we didn’t know who. As you already know, towards the end of the war, your parents made the decision to go into hiding. But unlike us, they didn’t leave the country, they used magic instead. A particularly strong type of magic called the Fidelius Charm.”

“What’s that?”

“The Fidelius Charm is a very complex piece of magic that can be used to hide something using a living anchor, this anchor is known as the Secret Keeper because they are the only person in the world who knows the secret of where whatever it is, is hidden. As long as the Secret Keeper keeps the secret, it is impossible to find, even if you were looking right at it. James and Lily put the charm on your home in Godric's Hollow, and for their Secret Keeper they chose–”

“Sirius Black.” Harry finished for him. “But Voldemort did find us, so that means...”

“I'm so sorry Harry.” He didn’t hold back the tears this time. “After that night there was a confrontation between him and Peter, and uh, Peter along with twelve muggles were killed and Sirius was sentenced to lifetime imprisonment in Azkaban.”

“No! But that doesn’t make sense. You said he was like a brother, so why would he? I don’t understand Moony.”

“Neither do I,” said Remus, his voice hoarse. “I was in a bad way, afterwards. I was in the north of England when it all happened and by the time I found out, Sirius was already locked away, and well... I don’t think I could’ve faced attending the trial either way so I don’t know all of the details. Professor Dumbledore might have more answers but I think Sirius is the only one who knows why he did what he did.”

They sat in quiet, only interrupted by Harry’s sniffing for a while, while Harry tried to process it all and Remus focused on not letting himself get sucked into bad memories. The conversation wasn’t over yet and he needed to stay strong for Harry.

“Why are you telling me this now?” asked Harry eventually.

Remus met Harry’s gaze directly and tried to radiate as much love and support as he could, even as he took out the newspaper and turned it towards Harry.

“Because Sirius Black has escaped from Azkaban,” he explained.

Harry stared down at the slowly blinking photograph. Sirius looked gaunt, his hair was long and matted, his skin waxy and stretched. Remus would barely have recognised him as the same man he once knew and cared for if it weren’t for the eyes. Even sunken as they were, there was no mistaking those eyes for anyone else’s. Many times, Remus had found himself compulsively taking out the paper to study that photograph but looking into those eyes made him feel ill.

“He’s coming after me,” said Harry.

“That does seem likely, yes.”

“Of course he is!” Harry snapped. “Merlin forbid I have a _normal_ year at Hogwarts.”

Remus winced.

“Moony, I am... I am going back to Hogwarts, right? You let me go back last time.”

Remus gave him a pointed look and Harry winced, realising too late that given how his last year ended up, it probably wasn’t actually a very good point in his favour.

“I won’t lie to you Harry, I did consider taking you out of school,” Remus sighed. “But Professor Dumbledore has offered a compromise, and I wanted to talk to you first, but I’m inclined to accept it.”

“What’s the compromise?”

“Albus has offered me the position as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor.”

“Really? That’s fantastic Moony! You’ve got to say yes!” Harry smiled, jumping up in his chair. His previous upset put aside for the moment.

“I take it that’s alright with you then,” Remus laughed.

“Are you kidding me, this is brilliant! Oh, but wait. What about the full moon, are you still going to come back here?”

“No, part of the deal is that I will have access to the Wolfsbane Potion. That way I’ll still transform, but I can keep my mind and keep everyone safe.”

Remus' main concern was as always, to keep Harry safe, but he couldn’t deny that free access to the Wolfsbane Potion was one hell of a draw to say yes. It wouldn’t stop the pain of the transformation, but Remus was an old hand at pain. The idea that he could keep his mind though, to wake up in the morning and remember, know without a doubt exactly what he’d done and where he’d been because he’d been _in control_ was a miracle he couldn’t wait to experience. And wasn’t that something of a miracle in itself. The fact that he was looking forward to a full moon.

They talked for a little longer about the details. Harry would have to be mindful about not calling him Uncle Moony, they didn’t need to go so far as to pretend not to know each other but it was still the safer option to have as few people as possible know that Remus was Harry’s guardian. Harry would have to talk to his friends to make sure they kept quiet too.

The next few weeks were spent packing up and securing the cabin. Remus had been prepared to move out completely, was expecting it in fact. Once Freydis had heard that however she, along with Nikita and to Remus' surprise, Lars, had sat him down and delivered a heartfelt speech. Telling him that he and Harry were one of them, no matter where they went in the world, or how long they were gone, the commune was their home, and the cabin would remain theirs to come back to for as long as they wished. If Remus had any doubts about their sentiments it was completely erased when the whole commune came together a few days before they were due to leave, to throw Harry and him a surprise farewell-for-now party.

Lars was going to take over the adult defence classes, with Freydis to help with the magical aspect. Remus extracted a promise from Nikita to continue practicing her duelling, and made a promise of his own to visit over the holidays and test her skills. He was going to miss them all.

\---

By an unhappy twist of fate, the full moon landed right at the start of term. Harry had offered to write to Ron and ask to stay at the Weasley’s again but Remus didn’t want to risk it. The Weasley's had been good to Harry but they had their own children to be looking after and Sirius Black was still out there somewhere. It wouldn’t be fair to put Harry’s safety on them when it was Remus' responsibility.

Harry accepted it as just Moony being his usual cautious self and happily joined him in arriving at Hogwarts a week early, just as he accepted it when Moony insisted Harry stay in Remus' rooms with him instead of sleeping in his usual but currently empty Gryffindor dorm.

Despite Remus' assurances that the Hogwarts elves would take very good care of them, Freydis had loaded them up with enough ‘proper Swedish cooking' to last them a month. Harry was gnawing on a dammsugare as he wandered around the castle. It was funny how much bigger the place felt when it was empty. Harry had expected it to feel like when he stayed at Hogwarts for the holidays, but even then, he’d always had Ron and/or Hermione with him. The professors were all there, but like Moony, most of them were busy shut up in their offices adding final preparations to their lesson plans for the year ahead. Harry had never really thought about how much work teachers had to do _before_ the actual teaching bit.

Moony was especially busy, between not being appointed until half way through the summer and knowing he likely wouldn’t be in a fit state to concentrate never mind work during his upcoming cycle, it was a race to get as much done as possible before term started. He still made time for Harry though.

After gaining permission from Madam Hooch, he borrowed one of the school brooms and joined Harry for a flight around the Quidditch pitch one afternoon and together they tossed a quaffle back and forth. Moony occasionally trying to catch Harry out with tricky passes and longshots, very impressed when Harry succeeded in catching every single one. He was nervous and excited to think Remus was finally going to be able to watch him in a proper Quidditch match.

On another day they’d practiced duelling, thankfully much more successfully than the last time he’d duelled at Hogwarts. After a while they drew the attention of Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall. The former of which was positively gleeful about it and thoroughly embarrassed Harry with his praise afterwards. Moony, the traitor, just smirked as Harry squirmed in discomfort, they both knew he was no better at accepting compliments than Harry was. He eventually intervened, diverting Professor Flitwick by asking about his experience as a duelling champion, and Harry took the opportunity to escape and hide away in Moony's office for the next few hours.

Moony’s office was where Harry was heading back to at the moment but he ducked around the corner out of sight when he saw Snape headed in the same direction, a smoking goblet in his hand. He wasn’t close enough to make out what they were saying, but there was the familiar dour drone of Snape’s voice and Remus' level tone in answer, and after a mere few seconds Snape came marching out again, robes billowing behind him like a cape. Harry rushed in just in time to see Remus lift the steaming goblet to his lips.

“Moony, stop!”

Remus startled but managed not to spill any of the liquid in the goblet.

“Harry, what is it?”

Harry gaped, not quite sure what to say, and ended up just gesturing helplessly at the goblet instead.

“It’s the Wolfsbane Potion, remember we talked about it?”

“But you didn’t say _Snape_ was the one brewing it!”

“Well he is the Potions Master Harry,” said Remus, a little bemused. “Besides it’s very complicated, there’s only so many people who can brew it.”

“I know but... but how do you know he hasn’t messed with it or something. To try and get you into trouble?”

“Messing around with the potion would counteract its effects and Severus isn’t a fool. He knows exactly how dangerous an unrestrained transformed werewolf can be. If he was going to try and get me into trouble, I highly doubt he would choose such a way that would put his own life in danger like that,” said Remus seriously.

“But what if he...”

Harry didn’t finish but Remus didn’t need him to.

“If I were to drop dead after drinking this it would be immediately obvious who was at fault, and while I may have had my issues with Professor Dumbledore, my opinion of him isn’t so poor that I think he’d let his employees get away with murdering one another.”

Harry couldn’t argue that point but wasn’t totally convinced. There wasn’t much he would put past Snape. He could do nothing but watch anxiously as Remus swallowed the whole goblet down in one go, grimacing at the aftertaste.

“It’ll be alright Harry,” he said gently.

“He hates me Moony. And everyone knows he really wants the Defence Against the Dark Arts job. I just think you should be careful.”

“That’s usually my line,” Remus teased.

Remus promised but Harry still woke up at dawn the first day of the full moon and hovered in the entrance hall until he came back from the shrieking shack. The rest of the year Remus would transform in his office behind some very strong silencing and locking charms, but he hadn’t wanted to take any risks the first time he tried the Wolfsbane. Remus looked exhausted and was moving stiffly as always, but he was also smiling. When he caught sight of Harry waiting for him, he sighed but didn’t stop.

“Was it alright?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Better than I could have hoped,” Remus grinned.

The first of September felt especially strange. The Hogwarts Express wouldn’t arrive until the evening, and if it was possible the professors were even _more_ busy. Except for Moony, who was trying to catch up on sleep so he was fit for the feast later. Harry had tried to move all of his stuff into Gryffindor tower but Bungle, the house-elf that had been serving Harry and Remus their meals over the past week, had insisted on doing it himself. It was for the best Harry eventually realised, as he didn’t actually know the password to get past the Fat Lady yet.

He’d left his school robes in Moony’s rooms and with nothing else to occupy himself with, he ended up getting changed into them early. Moony woke up just twenty minutes before the first carriages were set to arrive, and after changing into his least patched set of robes, headed straight into the Great Hall with the other professors while Harry hovered in the entrance hall, hopefully if he timed it right he could walk in with everyone else and no one would notice he hadn’t been on the train. Well except for Ron and Hermione, but he didn’t mind answering their questions. He spotted them in the crowd and was about to slip in next to them but Professor McGonagall got to them first and led them away from the group. Harry realised with a jolt that Ron was holding a wad of bloody tissues to his nose.

Harry ended up sitting with Seamus, Dean and Neville. Ron and Hermione arrived only after the Sorting was finished and the feast started.

“Harry! Thank goodness, we couldn’t find you on the train,” said Hermione sliding in next to him.

“I wasn’t on the train. What happened to you?” he directed his last question at Ron who’d lost the tissues but still had dried blood crusted around his nostrils.

“Malfoy was mouthing off so I thumped him and he got one of his goons to thump me back, and now I’ve got detention all weekend.”

“I told you not to Ron,” said Hermione.

“You heard what he was saying about my family and Harry, the git deserved it.”

“Wait, what was he saying?” asked Harry.

“Doesn’t matter,” said Ron, loading up his plate with more roast potatoes. “How come you weren’t on the train?”

“I came early with Uncle Moony, he’s our new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor,” said Harry quietly, nodding towards where Remus was sat at the staff table.

“Harry that’s wonderful!” said Hermione, “oh but, is it safe?” she added in a near whisper. “I thought there was a reason you lived... not in Britain.”

“Dumbledore’s got it sorted, but we still don’t want people to know that I actually live with Moony,” Harry warned.

“We’ll keep it quiet,” promised Ron. “At least we finally have a decent Defence teacher this year.”

After the feast Dumbledore made the announcements, introducing Remus, and to Harry and his friends’ surprise, Hagrid as new teachers. They stopped to congratulate Hagrid before heading to the common room. Once the portrait was shut the three of them hurried over to a cluster of chairs in the corner of the room where they were least likely to be overheard and Harry told his friends everything Remus had told him about Sirius Black. The pair of them were suitably horrified. They knew about Black of course, Hermione had a subscription to the Daily Prophet and Ron’s dad had been pulled out of his usual work at the Ministry to aid in the search, but they didn’t know the details.

Harry wondered if he should have told them after the following day, with Ron’s weird reaction to the so-called ‘Grim' in his teacup during Divination, although he did calm down when Harry said he hadn’t seen any kind of dog in several months, and Hermione nervous about letting Harry walk across the grounds to visit Hagrid, never mind that Hagrid ended up agreeing with her that it was too risky. He was starting to wonder if he’d get a minute alone all year or if that was too ‘risky' as well.

On a brighter note, everyone seemed to think Moony was a wonderful teacher. No one knew of the connection between Harry and Remus except for Ron and Hermione and while Harry wasn’t planning on broadcasting it about, he couldn’t help but stand a little taller with pride every time he overheard another student talk about how brilliant their last DADA lesson was, and wasn’t it nice to finally have a _proper_ Defence teacher.

Harry didn’t have a Defence Against the Dark Arts class until Thursday and by the time it came around, he was buzzing with excitement and nerves as if _he_ was the one about to teach. He wasn’t surprised when their first lesson turned out to be a practical one, as much as Moony loved his books he’d always favoured practice over theory when it came to teaching. What was a surprise, and a delightful one, was Moony's calm, perfectly polite, snubbing of Professor Snape when the Potions Master tried to humiliate Neville in front of everyone as they entered the staff room.

When Neville revealed the thing he most feared was Professor Snape, Harry saw Remus' expression go cold and tense for a second before returning to neutral. It was quick enough Harry didn’t think anyone else had noticed.

Moony had taught him about Boggarts before but Harry had never seen one in person. He laughed as hard as anyone when Neville’s spell forced the Snape-shaped Boggart into his grandmother’s clothes and excitedly edged towards the front of the group to take his turn, only before he could do so Remus put a hand on his arm and quietly asked him to go to the back of the group. Harry was confused but did as he asked.

By the end of the class it was clear why as only about half of the group had had a chance to face the Boggart before time ran out. Bitterly Harry wished he’d pretended not to have heard Moony and stayed exactly where he was. Moony had always been protective of him but surely this was going too far! Harry wasn’t a little kid anymore; he’d faced loads scarier than a Boggart.

Harry had sat in the common room brooding while Hermione helped Ron with his Transfigurations essay. Harry hadn’t finished his either but he wasn’t in the mood to write about the properties of the Mandrake plant in their use as part of the Animagus process.

“For goodness sake, stop pouting!” Hermione eventually snapped.

“I am _not_ pouting,” Harry objected.

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t you just go and ask Professor Lupin why he stopped you facing the Boggart, instead of jumping to conclusions. But you’d best hurry, you don’t want to get into trouble for wandering about the castle after dark.”

With that pronouncement Harry didn’t feel like he really had a choice whether to go or not. As it was, it was a good idea so he didn’t complain. Harry was already knocking on Remus' office door before he realised that Moony might have already returned to his rooms for the evening. He was in luck however as Moony’s voice called out inviting him in.

“Oh! Hello Harry. This is a nice surprise,” said Moony pleasantly.

“Hi Moony.”

“Come in, have a seat. Are you just visiting or is there a problem?”

All of Harry’s indignation dwindled in Moony’s comforting presence and he was tempted to forget it and pretend this was just a visit after all, but no, he needed an explanation.

“Um, I wanted to ask you something actually. About today’s lesson.”

“Oh, yes. Go on.”

“Why did you stop me facing the Boggart?” he asked bluntly.

“I’d have thought that was obvious Harry,” said Remus looking genuinely confused. “I’d have thought it would’ve turned into Lord Voldemort, and especially given the events of the last two years, I thought that might start a panic.”

Harry suddenly felt very foolish indeed. It was obvious now that Remus had explained.

“I take it you assumed otherwise.”

Harry fidgeted in his seat and shrugged, glancing up at Moony from under his eyelashes sheepishly, feeling some measure of relief when he saw Moony looked amused rather than offended, if not also a bit resigned.

“Harry as much as I might, on occasion, want to bundle you up in bubble wrap and shield you from all the bad things in the world, I know that wouldn’t be fair to you, and more than likely would end up with you in even more danger,” Remus said. “Now if you’d like, next time I find a Boggart, you can have a go at banishing it with just you and me, how does that sound?”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thanks Moony.”

They sat in comfortable quiet for a minute with only the scratch of Remus' quill as he added a few more notes to whatever paperwork he was doing to break the silence. Harry was just thinking about heading back to the common room when Remus spoke again.

“Actually Harry, since you’re here I have a question of my own for you.”

“Sure.”

“Professor Snape’s comment regarding Neville Longbottom today, is that a common occurrence?”

“Oh yeah, he’s always bullying Neville,” said Harry with a scowl. “In our lesson with him today he tried to poison Trevor, Neville’s pet toad.”

“He _what?”_

“Yeah, well Neville’s sort of rubbish at potions because he’s so scared of Snape so his potions always end up wrong. And Snape always yells at him about it but today he said to really teach him he was gonna feed the potion to Trevor, which if it was wrong would poison him. Anyway, Hermione managed to help him sort it out so that Trevor turned into a tadpole like he was supposed to, but _then_ Snape took five points from Gryffindor because Hermione wasn’t supposed to help even though if she hadn’t Trevor would probably be dead!” Harry complained.

Remus took several deep breaths in through his nose and deliberately loosened his grip on his quill that was currently on the brink of snapping.

“Well, thank you Harry, that’s useful to know. You’d best be heading back now though, it's getting late and I’m rather expecting a confrontation with our Potions Professor over today’s lesson at some point this evening,” said Remus, voice only a little strained.

“He deserved it,” said Harry vindictively.

Moony didn’t answer, simply raised an eyebrow and went pointedly back to his paperwork, which was something of an answer in itself.


	9. Chapter 9

As Remus expected, it wasn’t long before Severus stormed into his office, cloak billowing, expression twisted into a snarl.

“How _dare_ you!” he spat

“Good evening Severus,” said Remus politely.

“Don’t you ‘good evening’ me, you _wretch!_ How dare you try to humiliate me in front of the students.”

“I wasn’t trying to humiliate you Severus.”

“Oh really, then how would you explain this situation as anything other than a deliberate attempt to humiliate and undermine my authority at this school!”

“I would describe it as my attempt to teach my students how to banish a Boggart, as is my job. This situation, as you describe it, only arose because it turns out that _you_ are a thirteen-year-old boy’s worst fear. Doesn’t that bother you?” asked Remus calmly, “I must say I think that would bother me more than any embarrassment I felt as a result of the child's attempt to confront that fear.”

“Spare me the lecture Lupin, Longbottom is scared of his own shadow I can barely raise my voice without him trembling like a mouse,” Snape sneered.

“On the contrary, I found with a little encouragement he did rather well, he was even the one to finish off the Boggart today.”

“It’s not my fault that Longbottom has such little imagination that his greatest fear is a Professor being strict with him.”

“We both know the events of Neville’s past means he doesn’t need to imagine worse things than you,” said Remus, abruptly dropping the civility from his tone. “And yet you are still the thing he fears most. What does that tell you Severus?”

Remus was doing his best to keep his anger under control but his eyes still flashed dangerously and Snape tensed in response, before pasting on another sneer to disguise his reaction.

“Just because you’ve finally worked up the courage to face me yourself instead of hiding behind McGonagall’s skirts, don’t think you can intimidate me Lupin!” he spat.

“I’m not trying to intimidate you Severus, I’m merely curious why a grown man, a teacher, would think that poisoning his student’s pet was acceptable behaviour.”

“It was an incentive,” Snape dismissed. “You spend three years teaching that boy and you’ll find extreme methods are the only way to drum anything into that thick skull of his.”

“Oh really? So do you use these methods on all the students who struggle in your class – I believe I overheard you mentioning your frustration to Aurora in the staff room the other day about Gregory Goyle's penchant for melting cauldrons in your lessons, does he merit the same incentives that you give Neville?”

Snape didn’t have an answer for that but Remus could tell he was grinding his teeth in anger, he used to do the same thing in school whenever Lily invited Remus to study with them, or whenever James or Black were mentioned.

“I strongly advised Albus not to hire you Lupin,” he said eventually.

“That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Seeing as I am forced to tolerate your presence at this school, do us both a favour and keep your nose out of my classroom, my business, and _away_ from me!” Snape spat before storming out of the room.

“Stop bullying your students and I’ll be glad to,” Remus called after him.

He worked for another ten minutes or so before turning in for the night. Remus had only stayed so late in truth because he was expecting a visit from Snape and hadn’t particularly wanted the confrontation to take place in his private rooms. It was hardly a surprise. Remus knew Severus didn’t want him here, and while Remus knew better than to deliberately antagonize him, he wasn’t going to stand aside if Snape began targeting Harry again, or any of his students as it turned out. It was only a matter of time before they were at odds, although he hadn’t expected it to happen quite so soon admittedly.

By the next day the story of Snape’s or at least the Snape-like Boggart’s appearance in the third year’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class had spread through the school. Whether she had heard about the confrontation afterwards or was like Remus, concerned about the implications, Minerva had approached him during lunch and asked sharply if Snape had been behaving himself or if she needed to have a chat of her own with him. Remus had to be very careful with his phrasing to avoid setting her on the warpath.

What was truly frustrating was how little Remus could really do, even without the several hundred-mile barrier of being in Sweden. He could take his concerns to Albus who would no doubt promise to have a ‘word’ with Severus, but no further action would be taken, which Severus clearly knew if his behaviour was anything to go by. Why the man, whose abilities Remus would happily admit qualified him for so many other careers had chosen to teach, a profession that he obviously did not take any joy or pride in, was something Remus thought he would likely never understand. He just didn’t want the students to have to suffer for it.

Remus on the other hand was enjoying teaching, but he hadn’t forgotten his main motivation for taking the job. Something he was further reminded of when Harry stayed behind after class one day with a Hogsmeade permission slip in his hand. They’d avoided mentioning it until now. Remus didn’t want to disappoint Harry but the most recent sightings of Sirius Black placed him unnervingly close to Hogwarts. Worse still was that the date set for the Hogsmeade trip was not only Halloween, a day Remus was never at his best for, for obvious reasons, but also the last day of the full moon. He explained his reasoning to Harry, and promised to consider it again when the next Hogsmeade date was announced. Harry understood but was clearly dismayed and Remus couldn’t help feeling guilty. He hoped Ron and Hermione, the good friends that they were, would be able to cheer him up.

His worst fears were very nearly realised anyway as he found out the morning afterwards, when Minerva appeared at his door with a pale face and told him in a carefully measured voice that Sirius Black had somehow managed to infiltrate the castle itself, and the Fat Lady had very narrowly avoided paying the price of his anger. His first instinct was naturally to go and find Harry but the Wolfsbane Potion wasn’t a miracle cure, the transformation itself still left him exhausted and sore and needing his cane to walk more than two paces the next day. Minerva assured him that Harry was perfectly well and Remus had to content himself with that.

The next few days, whenever he had a spare moment, he spent them combing the castle, checking all seven of the secret passageways the Marauders had discovered in their time at Hogwarts, in the hope that he might find some evidence of how Black got in. Even if Albus hadn’t already been aware of them, which he found unlikely, Remus had been sure to tell the Headmaster about them when discussing the measures they were taking to keep Harry safe this year. In all likelihood, the passageways had thus been checked already the night before, but Remus wanted to make sure nothing was missed. Even if doing so was just a way to try and alleviate his feelings of impotence at once again not being there when Harry was in danger. He comforted himself with the fact that of anyone alive, Remus was probably the one person who knew Sirius Black best and was therefore the most qualified to pick up on something others may have missed, but alas he found nothing.

During his search he came across the Fat Lady, who since the attack had been hiding in a map of Argyllshire on the second floor, and took the opportunity to thank her profusely and commend her on her bravery for refusing to give Black the password. The Fat Lady was still not up to resuming her former duties which had been taken over by Sir Cadogan in the interim, but Remus was pleased to note that she’d left the map and moved into her friend Violet's painting shortly after their conversation.

It wasn’t long after that, that the time for the first Quidditch match arrived, and Remus was keen to see Harry's skills for himself. Minerva had been full of praise for Harry’s abilities, which given her fierce love of Quidditch, Remus knew she wasn’t exaggerating. As they took their seats in the stands, Remus hoped he’d actually be able to spot Harry through the driving rain.

He barely heard the whistle blow over the pounding of rain on a sea of umbrellas, and had to peer out from under them to watch as red and yellow blurs zoomed about, battling against the wind as much as the bludgers. Remus could only identify Harry because he was circling several feet above the other players for the entire match. He kept his eyes on that little red dot as it descended when the captain called for a time out, and again when it ascended far too many feet into the air. He watched as it came to a sudden stop, hovering over an empty area of the stands, then abruptly zoomed off after spotting the snitch. He watched even as his right eye and left leg began to ache, and ice crept into his veins in a way he hadn’t felt in a very long time. When the little red dot slipped from his broom and hurtled towards the ground at breakneck speed, Remus stopped just watching and acted.

Vaguely aware that Albus was doing the same, he ran out onto the pitch until he was beneath Harry and with his heart in his mouth, cast a spell to slow his fall. Together with the Headmaster, he guided Harry’s limp body gently down until he landed in Remus' arms.

The ice retreated as Albus sent the Dementors away, and reluctantly Remus placed Harry on the stretcher the Headmaster then conjured and floated up to school. Before doing so Albus briefly squeezed his shoulder in reassurance.

“Get the rest of the students inside, I’ll bring Harry to Poppy,” he promised.

Pushing down his first instinct to race after Harry, Remus stayed behind with the rest of the Professors and corralled the students out of the rain and back inside, helping up a first year Hufflepuff when he slipped in the mud to the amusement of his friends, and spelling the entrance hall clean of muddy footprints once the last of them had tromped through. No use making Mr Filch's job any more difficult than it needed to be.

By the time he reached the Hospital Wing, Harry was awake and Poppy had just got done evicting his still muddy teammates leaving just Ron and Hermione to stay with him, who luckily for Remus, already knew of his connection to Harry.

“Moony!” called Harry from where he was propped up in bed. Remus breathed a sigh of relief.

“Harry. Are you alright?”

“I think so.”

“Well, here. Have some of this, it will help,” he said passing over a bar of chocolate.

“But it’s not the weekend yet,” Harry protested.

“We’re not in Sweden. Freydis isn’t here to tut at us,” Remus laughed before sobering. “Besides, these are special circumstances.”

“What happened?”

“You fell Harry,” said Hermione.

“Yeah, I know that. I meant why, what were those things, what happened to me?”

“Those were Dementors Harry. The Azkaban guards Dumbledore mentioned at the start of the year,” Remus explained. “They are among the foulest creatures that walk this earth. They infest the darkest, filthiest places, they glory in decay and despair, they drain peace, hope and happiness out of the air around them. Even Muggles feel their presence, though they can’t see them. Get too near a Dementor and every good feeling, every happy memory, will be sucked out of you. If it can, the Dementor will feed on you long enough to reduce you to something like itself – soulless and evil. You’ll be left with nothing but the worst experiences of your life.”

“So they were... feeding on me?” asked Harry looking a little ill. “That’s why I fell?”

“Yes Harry.”

“I heard screaming,” Harry murmured.

“You fell from so high up, lots of people were screaming,” said Hermione.

“No I mean I heard... never mind.”

Remus frowned, worried that he knew what Harry wasn’t saying and hoping he was wrong, but he knew better than to push, especially with Harry’s friends there.

“Why’d they have to come to the match!” said Harry bitterly.

“They’re getting hungry,” said Remus darkly. “They’re used to feeding on the prisoners in Azkaban. For obvious reasons Dumbledore won’t allow them on the grounds and being cut off from human prey, I expect the match, so many people in one place, high emotions, was just too much temptation.”

They talked for a little longer. Ron and Hermione regretfully told Harry what became of his Nimbus. Before Remus left, he gave Harry some more chocolate, for a midnight snack he told him, but in truth it was in case of nightmares. In his own experience any encounter with Dementors inevitably triggered bad dreams, and if what happened to Harry had unearthed certain memories as Remus feared they had, the nightmares would be worse than usual. If they were back home Remus would have spent the night with Harry just in case, but Poppy was very strict about no visitors after dark to disturb her patients, and even her soft spot for Remus wasn’t enough for her to overturn it.

Remus had to settle for visiting Harry again the day afterwards. Whether it was because Ron and Hermione weren’t there, or merely that Harry had had the time to think on it, but the visit ended with Harry asking to learn the Patronus Charm so that next time the Dementors came for him, he’d be prepared. Remus would much rather Harry never be put in such a position, but the Dementors weren’t going anywhere until Black was caught, and as the incident at the match proved, the longer they were away from Azkaban the more likely they’d risk the Headmaster’s anger if it meant a free meal. At least if he taught him to defend himself, he could prevent Harry from being that free meal.

\---

The next Hogsmeade trip was scheduled for the last weekend before the Christmas break, but once again Harry wouldn’t be going. The moon wasn’t a problem this time but the Dementors were, Dumbledore couldn’t prevent them from entering the village after all and Harry didn’t know how to ward them off yet. What really made Harry relent wasn’t the risk of Dementors but the face Moony had pulled when he asked to go. It was unique to Moony and Harry had seen it many times, but especially often in recent years. It meant Remus was torn up with worry but trying not to show it. Even if Harry hadn’t recognised the face, it would be hard to miss the expression of relief when Harry agreed to stay at Hogwarts.

That still didn’t stop Harry feeling glum as he bid goodbye to Ron and Hermione that Saturday morning and was left standing alone on the steps. He was headed back to the common room when he was waylaid by Fred and George who bundled him into an empty classroom.

“What are you doing, how come you’re not at Hogsmeade?” he asked curiously.

“We have an early Christmas present for you,” said Fred.

“A way to help with your current predicament,” said George.

“And to satisfy our own curiosity.”

“It’s a win-win.”

“What are you two on about?” said Harry.

The twins shared a smirk and then Fred reached inside his cloak and pulled out a large, old, folded-up square of parchment and laid it on the desk with a flourish. Harry looked at the innocuous looking page and up at the twins with an eyebrow raised.

“It’s a blank piece of parchment.”

“Blank parchment he says!” laughed George.

“Not just any old parchment mate,” smirked Fred. “This here is the secret to our success.”

“It’s a wrench giving it to you, believe me.”

“But we decided, your needs are greater than ours.”

“Just answer one question and it’s all yours.”

“We bequeath it to you.”

“Right, so what’s the question?” asked Harry, intrigued despite himself.

The twins shared another look and then turned back to Harry with eyes feverish with anticipation.

“We know you live with your Uncle Moony,” said Fred.

“Our question is, is your Moony the same as this Moony...”

With that George took out his wand, tapped the parchment and said, ‘ _I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.’_

At once, a spider’s web of ink lines spread out from the point that George’s wand had touched, stretching into every corner of the parchment. Across the top words began to blossom in great, curly green writing, that read:

_Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs Purveyors of Aids to Magical Mischief-Makers are proud to present_

_THE MARAUDER’S MAP_

Harry’s heart leapt at what he was seeing, his mind reaching back to all of the stories Remus had told him of his time at school, his _Marauder_ days. His eyes naturally gravitated to one name, Prongs, his dad. Moony’s name was obvious but he didn’t know or could even guess why Remus called his dad Prongs. Harry had never thought to ask, too wrapped up in the stories, imagining his dad and Moony creeping through the castle at night, trying not to get caught, or zooming around the Quidditch pitch after the quaffle with the whole school cheering him on. He knew that Wormtail was Peter, which meant Padfoot, Harry thought with a jolt, must be Sirius Black.

He didn’t have time to get drawn into dark thoughts as Fred and George were still waiting on an answer, although from the way they were grinning it looked like they had already read it from his face before he had the chance to open his mouth.

“It is isn’t it?” said Fred.

“Yeah, yes. That’s my uncle,” confirmed Harry. There was no point in lying after all.

Harry couldn’t help but grin as the twins clapped and whooped.

“Oh Merlin, I can’t _believe_ we missed meeting him when he dropped you off at ours last summer!”

“Harry you have got to introduce us to him!”

Harry realised, with a hint of glee, that despite Moony introducing himself by name to Mrs Weasley and Ron knowing who he was, Fred and George had somehow missed that they were being taught by the man himself and had been for the last four months. Harry could tell them now he supposed, on the other hand they were meant to be keeping the true connection between Harry and Professor Lupin quiet, and more importantly, the longer he waited the funnier it would be when they finally figured it out. Fred and George weren’t stupid, they’d put it together eventually, and if they didn’t Harry would tell them at the end of the year and thoroughly enjoy the looks on their faces when he did.

“Next time we’re all together, I’d be happy to,” he promised, the twins too caught up in their excitement to notice the smirk as he said it.

Things just got better from then on. Using the map, Harry was able to sneak into Hogsmeade. Reassuring himself that not telling Fred and George that Remus was Moony made up for going against Remus' wishes by leaving the castle, not that Remus had explicitly forbidden him from doing so anyway, not in so many words. He hadn’t signed the permission form but it was Harry who said he’d stay at Hogwarts.

He’d spent a fantastic few hours with Ron and Hermione exploring the village, rushing from shop to shop, each one bustling full of people trying to escape the blizzard outside, with the added bonus of hiding Harry from Sirius Black, the Dementors, or far more likely, any of his Professors who knew he shouldn’t be there. After grabbing a butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks, there was a tense moment where Harry had to sneak out rather abruptly, with the help of Hermione’s quick spellwork, when Hagrid, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, and inexplicably, the Minister of Magic came in and took the booth right next to theirs.

The next day looked like things were to take a turn for the worse again when they went to visit Hagrid only to find him distraught, clutching at a letter from the school governors. Malfoy’s plotting since their first Care of Magical Creatures class was finally coming to fruition it seemed. Never mind that it was Draco’s own stupid fault for taunting Buckbeak in the first place, he’d gone crying to his father, no doubt in the hopes of getting Hagrid fired, and Lucius Malfoy had used his influence once again with the governors to give the case over to the Committee for the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures. The three of them had spent the rest of the day in the library digging up anything that Hagrid might be able to use in Buckbeak's defence. In the end the best information Harry found didn’t come from the library, but instead from a familiar if entirely unexpected source.

“Oh Harry Potter sir, how wonderful it is to see you again!” said a high-pitched voice around waist height.

“Dobby? Wh- uh, yeah nice to see you too. Er, what are you doing here?” asked Harry, looking down to see the elf beaming up at him.

“Oh Dobby’s life has been changed most wondrously since last we saw Harry Potter.” Something which Harry could tell just from seeing him. The elf had swapped the old ragged pillowcase out for an odd assortment of clothes including a stripy tie, a pair of swimming trunks, a tea-cosy, and a mismatched pair of socks. More striking however was just how happy Dobby looked. “Dobby had been taking Master Lupin's advice all year, sir, and Master Malfoy was getting so terribly angry with Dobby disobeying his orders even though Dobby wasn’t disobeying, sir, like Master Lupin said, Dobby was doing _exactly_ what was asked of him! Oh but Master Malfoy wanted to give him clothes but he never would, sir. Not when Dobby knows so many of his secrets. But then Harry Potter tricks him into doing it and Dobby is finally free!” Dobby squealed, jumping up and down on the spot.

“Only after that Dobby doesn’t know what to be doing with himself, sir. But then Professor Dumbledore finds Dobby, and offers him a job at Hogwarts school. And now Dobby is getting paid for his work, sir!”

“That’s great Dobby!” said Harry, and meaning it. Despite all the trouble he’d caused him last year, Harry knew the elf was just trying to protect him in the only way he could. Besides, Harry felt sympathy for anyone who got stuck spending time with Malfoy, and Dobby had been forced to serve him and his family his whole _life._ The fact that Dobby still had his marbles after all that time meant Harry had the highest respect for him. Thinking of the Malfoy’s, and with Buckbeak’s trial still lingering in the back of his mind, an idea began to form. “Dobby, did you say that you know some of Mr Malfoy’s secrets?”

“Oh yes, sir. Lots of them.”

“And might some of these secrets get Mr Malfoy into a lot of trouble if anyone found out about them?”

“Most definitely, sir. That’s why Master Malfoy is not wanting to free Dobby until Harry Potter makes him.”

“Are you working right now Dobby or do you have some time?”

“Dobby is on his break,” said Dobby proudly. “Master Dumbledore is saying that Dobby can have as many breaks as he is wanting.”

“That’s great! In that case, would you come with me? I’d like to introduce you to my friends.”

Dobby gasped and his eyes welled up with tears. “It would be an honour to meet Harry Potter’s friends,” he said with a trembling smile.

Harry asked more about his new job as they walked in the direction of the common room and Dobby enthusiastically described his work, interjecting his answers with much praising of Dumbledore along the way. Not that that was surprising, Mr Malfoy had hardly set the bar high with good boss standards and Professor Dumbledore was one of the most fair- and open-minded people Harry had ever met. Besides Moony obviously.

Harry gave Dobby a hand up through the portrait hole, only remembering that house-elves could apparate wherever they wanted once they were already through the other side. Dobby seemed pleased with the help anyway. Being the holidays, most of the students had gone back home and Ron and Hermione had the common room to themselves when Harry entered. They looked up from the pile of books in front of them and both did a double take when they noticed Dobby trailing behind Harry.

“Ron, Hermione. This is Dobby the house-elf, I told you about him last year.”

Ron looked bemused but Hermione didn’t hesitate to get up and offer her hand out for Dobby to shake.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you Dobby. I’m Hermione Granger,” she greeted.

“Ron Weasley,” Ron added when Dobby turned to face him.

“Dobby is most happy to meet the friends of Harry Potter,” said Dobby sincerely.

“Dobby’s got a job working in the kitchen here,” said Harry.

“Oh! Well I’ve always thought the food here is simply marvellous,” said Hermione.

“Mm, Dobby was telling me that it’s much better than working for the Malfoy’s.”

“Oh yes, Dobby loves being free! And it’s all thanks to Harry Potter,” said Dobby.

“It turns out Malfoy wouldn’t fire Dobby because Dobby knows so many of their secrets, he didn’t want to risk it,” explained Harry. A grin started to grow on Ron’s face and Harry knew the same thought was occurring to him. “You know Ron’s dad works for the Ministry Dobby,” Harry added casually.

“I need to talk to Harry and Ron, if you’ll excuse us for a moment Dobby!” interrupted Hermione before Dobby could respond, grabbing Harry and Ron by the arms and dragging them to the other side of the common room. “Harry what do you think you’re doing?” she hissed.

“Don’t you see Hermione, it’s brilliant! Dobby knows loads of stuff about the Malfoy’s, all of the dodgy things Mr Malfoy gets up to. If he tells us, Ron can tell his dad who can take it to the Ministry, and Malfoy will finally get what he deserves!”

“It’s genius mate!” said Ron. “Come on Hermione, Malfoy deserves it. It’s his fault Buckbeak’s on trial in the first place, you read that letter, it’s Draco’s dad who made them send the case to the Disposal of Dangerous Creatures Committee.”

“Except even if Mr Malfoy is punished, that won’t stop Buckbeak’s trial from going ahead. The only way to save him is to help Hagrid make the best case in his defence,” argued Hermione.

“Alright, fine. So maybe this won’t help with Buckbeak. But it will stop Mr Malfoy from doing this sort of stuff in the future. We all know how dangerous he is. He doesn’t think muggleborns should be allowed at Hogwarts. Last year he got Dumbledore suspended _and_ he was the one that gave Ginny, Riddle's diary in the first place,” said Harry.

“Which nearly killed her,” added Ron darkly and Hermione winced.

“Fine, but what about Dobby,” she said, changing tack. “Did you even bother to ask if he was happy to share these secrets. Like you said, Mr Malfoy is dangerous. What if he finds out Dobby told and goes after him.”

“Oh but Dobby wants to help miss!” piped up Dobby, making them all jump. “Sorry, Dobby didn’t mean to listen. Dobby has very good hearing,” said the elf.

Looking at his large ears that probably shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“It is right that Master Malfoy should be punished. Master Malfoy is a bad man, he is a liar and a bully miss. He treated Dobby like vermin. If telling Master Wheezy the secrets Dobby knows will help Harry Potter and his friends, then Dobby will do it!”

Hermione didn’t have any more arguments but she still wasn’t happy about it. That said, she didn’t go back to the research until after Dobby had gone, Harry noticed. Not that he blamed her, what Dobby told them was in turn both fascinating and disturbing. Really, Harry thought, it was no wonder Draco was the git that he was with a dad like that. Draco probably didn’t know even half of what Dobby told them, which was a shame really. If he did then he’d probably go around gloating about it to anyone who would listen and Harry and his friends wouldn’t have to do anything.


	10. Chapter 10

If Hermione was annoyed at them for the thing with Dobby, it was nothing to how annoyed they were with her for getting Harry’s new Firebolt confiscated. Hermione had explained her reasoning and Professor McGonagall agreed with her, as unfortunately did Remus. Harry thought they were worrying for nothing. How would Sirius Black of all people send him the best racing broom in the world without getting caught, how could he even afford it, he was a fugitive for Merlin’s sake! He didn’t say any of this to Moony of course. When he heard about the Firebolt his face went all pale and tense like it always did when Black was mentioned and Harry didn’t want to upset him. That was perhaps the main reason Harry was annoyed with Hermione. This year had been the first Christmas that he got to spend with Moony and his friends, he’d wanted it to be great. But then Hermione had to go bringing up the mass murderer that was after him and it really put a damper on the whole day.

Things turned around again once term started back up. Oliver Wood promised to speak to Professor McGonagall about returning Harry’s Firebolt before their next match against Ravenclaw, and after class one day Moony pulled him aside to ask if Harry still wanted to have a go against the Boggart.

With excitement and nerves Harry entered the empty History of Magic classroom on Thursday evening and waited for Remus to arrive, which he did shortly, holding a large suitcase which he heaved onto Professor Binns desk. Harry had already lit the lamps but with a wave of his wand Remus cleared the desks to the side of the room leaving the centre open.

“Ah, here we go then. Sorry it took so long. Boggarts can hide themselves very well when they want to, I found this one lurking in Mr Filch's filing cabinet earlier.”

“That’s fine.”

Remus went through the incantation with him again and had him practice a few times without his wand before he went back to the suitcase.

“Ready?”

Harry took a deep breath and nodded. Remus unclipped the latches on the case and at his nod, pulled back the lid. Something dark and cloaked rose from within with a rattling breath. It glided towards Harry with long, twisted, glistening fingers outstretched. A rush of ice swept over him from head to toe. Any thoughts of a spell disappeared and in its place was a memory of a pleading voice followed by a piercing scream, and darkness took him.

When he opened his eyes again, he was lying on the floor with his head cradled in the crook of Moony’s arm, who was calling his name in worry.

“What happened?” he croaked.

“It seems the incident at the match last term left more of an impact than either of us realised. The Boggart turned into a Dementor instead of Voldemort,” Moony explained, helping Harry sit up slowly. “Here, have some of this. It will help.”

Harry took the chocolate Moony offered and nibbled on the corner.

“Well at least no one else saw me collapse this time,” he muttered.

“Harry, you have nothing to be ashamed about,” Moony admonished gently. “The Dementors force us to relive our worst memories, ones we may not even realise we have. And your worst memories are more than anyone could be expected to deal with.”

“You know then. What I hear when...” Harry grimaced.

“I suspected,” Remus said sadly. “Well on the plus side we now have more options here,” he added after a pause.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry.

“I must admit I’d been wracking my brains trying to come up with some way to teach you the Patronus Charm. I didn’t want to test you against an actual Dementor, not that I could or would bring one into the castle, but a Dementor-shaped Boggart may just do the trick. So now it’s a question of whether you’d still like to try banishing this Boggart, in which case we’ll have to wait until I can find another one to start your Patronus lessons, or if you want to go straight to the Patronus. Either way it’s up to you.”

Harry didn’t even have to think about it. Even if he did get his Firebolt back in time, if the Dementors turned up in the middle of the next match and he fell again, they’d lose the cup! “I want to go straight to the Patronus,” he said.

Remus talked him through it, and he spent a long time trying to settle on a happy enough memory. There were plenty to choose from. The time when he was six years old and Moony surprised him with a trip to Kiruna snow festival to celebrate the launch of Sweden’s first satellite. When he was nine and Moony teamed up with some of the other adults to flood the courtyard in the commune that winter to turn it into an ice rink. Building an igloo with Torvald and Katja. Crowding round the tele on Christmas day at Niklas' house to watch Kalle Anka. Finding out he was going to get to go to Hogwarts. Being made Gryffindor Seeker. Having fun with Ron at the Burrow last summer...

It wasn’t easy, but Remus had warned it wouldn’t be. He collapsed again the first time he tried. A few weeks in he wasn’t fainting anymore but he still only managed to produce a faint silver mist that only seemed to irritate the Dementor-Boggart instead of warding it off. At least Harry thought it was irritated, he couldn’t tell exactly given the thing didn’t have a face. Moony wouldn’t let him despair about his slow progress, each time he caught him about to do so he took him aside and firmly reminded him just how advanced a piece of magic the Patronus Charm was, and that he was as far along with it as he was, was testament to his skill and determination.

On a brighter note, McGonagall _finally_ returned his Firebolt, and just in time for the match against Ravenclaw. Gryffindor won the match; Harry caught the Snitch _and_ produced his most solid Patronus yet. Even if it did turn out to be against Draco and not an actual Dementor. Draco and his goons got detention and lost fifty points from Slytherin. Harry was riding high, if only Hermione and Ron would make up, everything would be perfect.

Of course, that’s when everything went wrong. Again.

\---

Sirius Black got into the Gryffindor common room. Sirius Black was in _Harry’s dormitory!_ Remus couldn’t believe he’d been so stupid as to bring Harry back to Hogwarts. They should never have come back to Britain at all. How arrogant he had been to think he could protect Harry here. How selfish of him, too caught up with the temptation of Wolfsbane and a job he liked and all the while Harry’s life was at stake!

“Remus Lupin, that is quite enough!” said McGonagall. Whether she could read his thoughts from his face or he’d actually been speaking them out loud Remus didn’t know. Either way she wasn’t impressed. “You have done your best by Harry from the moment you became his guardian. Anyone with eyes can see how hard you try to protect that boy and how much you love him. So, put aside whatever self-flagellating nonsense is running through your head. What’s done is done. Now we need to focus on what needs to be done moving forwards.”

“This is the third time he’s got past the Dementors and no one knows how. If even those foul creatures can’t stop him then surely the only thing to do is to take Harry away from here, and go somewhere Sirius can’t find us?”

“And live in hiding the rest of your lives? Disrupt Potter’s education, take him away from his friends? Come now Remus, there simply must be a better option than that.”

After a long debate, made more fraught when Dumbledore joined them, they reached a shaky compromise. The Headmaster would put in place more security around the castle. Every secret passageway inside the castle would be monitored and charmed to alert the staff whenever someone attempted to use them, and as a final measure, Harry would stay with Remus in his rooms.

Harry was less than impressed when informed of this new development, to put it lightly.

“Moony, that’s not fair!”

“He was in your dorm Harry. If Ron hadn’t yelled when he did...”

“He only got in there because Neville wrote down all the passwords and McGonagall’s banned everyone from telling him the new one _and_ the Pink Lady’s back with trolls guarding her. I’m probably safer there than anywhere!”

“You don’t know what he’s capable of–”

“And you said we shouldn’t tell anyone you’re my guardian. How else are we going to explain me staying with you here instead of in the tower like normal?”

“Don’t tell them specifics, say you’ve been moved somewhere safe–”

“–And anyway, if it’s not safe for me, how come it’s fine for Ron and Dean and Neville, and everyone else to stay–”

“Because he’s after _you_ Harry!” Remus cried at last. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I hate that this is the way things are, it’s not fair and I would do anything to change it but I can’t Harry, I can’t. All I can do is try and keep you safe. And I will do it. No matter what it takes.”

Remus hadn’t meant to blow up like that and was a mixture of grateful and guilty when afterwards Harry stopped arguing and agreed to move out of Gryffindor tower.

He didn’t complain but it was quite clear he still wasn’t happy about the situation. Made worse by the fact that their Patronus lessons weren’t going well, or at least, not as well as Harry wanted them to be going. He hadn’t been able to recreate the nearly solid form he’d produced at the Quidditch match. Remus wasn’t surprised. He’d been pumped full of adrenaline at the game and despite Harry’s personal animosity towards the boy, Draco Malfoy didn’t quite have the same joy-draining, soul-sucking qualities of even the Dementor-Boggart. Add on to that Harry’s displeasure at his current situation, whatever feelings he was experiencing in regards to Black, and the usual anxiety over the upcoming exams (although that was nothing compared to Hermione poor girl. Remus had to wonder what Dumbledore was thinking letting her have a time-Turner, or if he even realised, she was using it to work herself to the point of exhaustion), and it was truly a wonder that Harry could produce anything in their lessons at all. Something that Remus took pains to point out to Harry every time, but he had yet to accept it.

The date of the next Hogsmeade weekend arrived and Remus decided to take the day off work and spend it with Harry. This was the third time he’d be missing out, and Remus knew arguably better than most, just because something was necessary didn’t make it easier to bear. He headed to his rooms with a pocket full of Honeydukes and a vague idea of a trip down to the hopefully empty Quidditch pitch but stopped short when he opened the door and saw Harry studying a very familiar piece of parchment.

“Moony!” Harry yelled in surprise, rushing to fold up the parchment and hide it away.

“Is that, what I think it is?”

“Um, no, what? No, it’s just a piece of, uh. I mean I was just doing my... oh wait!” said Harry, “you’re Moony, obviously. You already know.”

Remus was only half listening, caught up in his memories. He slumped into the chair next to Harry and with a slightly shaky hand, turned the parchment over to reveal those oh so familiar names written out in green ink.

“But how did you–I mean, where did you find it?”

“It was given to me by... someone.”

“Someone,” Remus repeated dubiously but didn’t push. “You know I looked for this, the day I found the Boggart in Mr Filch’s office, only out of curiosity really. When I couldn’t find it, I assumed it was lost to time, but here it is. After all these years,” he said in wonder. “Merlin, when your dad and I were at school this map helped us avoid a whole host of trouble.”

“You mean it helped you _make_ trouble,” accused Harry with a grin.

“Well, that too perhaps,” Remus conceded before sobering. “It’s good that you found it. And I want you to keep it but you must be sensible about this Harry. I’m sure you’ve already noticed that there are several passageways leading out of the castle. Not that you _would,_ but you should know that they’ve all been charmed to alert the staff if anyone tries to use them.”

Harry twitched guiltily and Remus tried not to think too hard about why that might be.

“Do you know how to close it properly?” he asked instead.

“Uh-huh, like this. _Mischief Managed!_ ” said Harry, tapping his wand to the parchment, and the pair of them watched as the lines and letters faded away.

“Wonderful,” praised Remus. “That will keep most people from reading it. But it won’t stop–”

“Sirius Black. Because he’s Padfoot. He helped make it.”

“Unfortunately,” Remus swallowed harshly, “obviously therefore you need to be very, very careful about where you leave it. More so than we were certainly. We’ve already seen what can happen when students leave information about the castle lying around.”

Harry promised without hesitation. Despite the serious bent to the conversation, the next few hours were thoroughly enjoyable. Mostly spent with Remus recounting stories about the Marauder’s Map, some of which Harry had already heard and knew but insisted on hearing again. Around mid afternoon when the students were due to arrive back from Hogsmeade, Harry headed off to catch up with Ron, but not before burying the map along with his invisibility cloak at the very bottom of his trunk, latching it, locking it, and shoving the trunk so deep under his bed he’d have to crawl on his belly later to retrieve anything from it.

A few moments later Remus was headed up to Professor Flitwick's office and bumped into Harry again, this time with his friends, outside the Gryffindor common room. Hermione was in tears and hugging a flustered looking Ron. Remus was worried until Harry caught sight of him and rushed over with a huge smile on his face.

“We just heard. Hagrid won the case!” Harry explained.

“The ca–oh! The griffin, Buckbeak.”

“That’s the one.”

“That’s wonderful, is uh Hermione alright?”

“Oh yeah she’s fine. Something Ron did helped Hagrid win so she’s just grateful. I just hope this means they’ve stopped arguing,” muttered Harry.

“One can only hope,” agreed Remus. “Well I’m very happy for you all. Do pass my congratulations along to Hagrid next time you see him, won’t you?”

“Course, see you later Moony,” called Harry over his shoulder as he headed back to his friends. Only once Hermione seemed to have calmed down and was no longer clinging to Ron and weeping, Remus noted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one this time. Getting close to the end.


	11. Chapter 11

With the safety measures in place, the only time they could see Hagrid was during Care of Magical Creatures. Hagrid was beaming and took them aside to thank them the first chance he got.

“I was dead nervous at firs', dropped me notes, an’ kep’ forgettin’ all them dates yeh looked up fer me, Hermione. But I pulled meself together in the end, told ‘em what ‘appened. They talked it over and agreed, it weren' Buckbeak’s fault!”

“That’s wonderful Hagrid!” said Hermione.

“Well, we owe it all to you. Couldn' ‘ave done it without yeh.”

Both Hagrid and Hermione started to tear up, but Harry had to ask.

“And what about Mr Malfoy? Did he... _do_ anything?”

“He didn’ even turn up. Apparently had a bit of a run in with the aurors the other day and was busy tryin' to sort it still. About time! Still, bit of luck with the timin', spect things woulda gone differen' if he had been there.”

Harry shared a smile with Ron.

“Very lucky,” he agreed.

Hagrid gave them a hug and thanked them again before going back to the lesson. Harry snuck a glance at Draco and noticed instead of the usual sneer he typically wore in class, his face was pale and blank, the only exception being the angry looks he shot in Hagrid’s direction every time he spoke.

After Divination, which Hermione had finally had enough of and to everyone’s surprise, walked out of mid-lesson, Ron hurried off to write to his dad to see if he could find out anymore about Mr Malfoy. And Harry wandered down to see Moony.

The tension between Remus and him had eased since the Map, and they’d settled into an easy routine. Harry would spend a few hours after dinner in the common room with his friends while Remus worked in his office. Just before curfew they’d both return to Remus' rooms. Sometimes Remus would help Harry with his homework, Harry would ask if he’d had his Wolfsbane or what creatures he’d brought in for his lessons that day, they’d play a game of exploding snap or chess while Remus told him stories about the Marauder's Map and then they’d go to bed. He still would rather be in Gryffindor tower with his friends than in Moony’s rooms but it wasn’t as bad as he’d thought it would be. Harry had taken Moony’s advice and told anyone who asked nothing except that he’d been moved to a safe room (except for Ron and Hermione of course), and no one had seemed much bothered beyond that. Nor was he missing out on much as he feared, only spending the nights away from the common room.

It was before dinner so Moony was in his office. He knocked before entering, having learnt his lesson last time when he walked straight in only to find Remus was busy, gently trying to reassure a sobbing first year Ravenclaw over something to do with Hags. If that hadn’t been uncomfortable enough, hearing Moony refer to him sternly as ‘Mr Potter' as he asked him to wait outside was disconcerting enough that Harry always remembered to knock from then on.

Remus was marking essays and Harry remembered and quickly tried to forget the pile of homework sitting in his trunk that he’d been putting off.

“Hello Harry, it’s still early isn’t it, are you alright?” asked Remus.

“I’m fine. Just thought I’d come see how you were.”

“I’m very well thank you Harry.”

“You had your Wolfsbane yet?”

“Full moon's still two weeks away sprog,” Moony reminded him.

“Oh, right.”

“How much homework do you have right now?”

Harry jumped and for a wild moment thought Moony had read his mind.

“Uh... why?”

“The holidays are coming up. I was thinking about going back to Sweden for a visit, if you don’t have too much work, I thought you might like to come with me.”

Harry agreed readily. It would be good to see everyone again. Besides Ron had been bugging him lately about getting a hold of some more dammsugare (or marzipan tube things as Ron called them), after Harry shared the last of the sweets from Freydis with him. But Harry hadn’t a clue where to get them in Britain and had been on the verge of trying to explain them to the house-elves in the kitchens and hoping for the best. It was also the perfect chance to get a break from Oliver Wood, who aside from setting Quidditch practice for every single day of the three weeks leading up to the match, continuously cornered Harry to go over flight manoeuvres and reminded him over and over not to catch the Snitch until they were more than fifty points up.

The day arrived when they were due to leave and Harry had his bag over his shoulder and one hand on the door when Remus called out to him.

“Harry, where are you going?”

“...The Headmaster’s office? To floo home?”

“There’s a fireplace right here sprog,” Remus pointed out with some amusement.

Harry grinned sheepishly and stepped up next to Moony. A nauseating-as-ever trip through the floo, and a slightly-better-than-last-time apparation and they reached the familiar border of the commune where Anette and Lars were waiting on snowmobiles to give them a lift back. He barely climbed off from behind Anette when he was affectionately tackled to the ground by Katja.

“Harry!” she roared in greeting.

“Hey Katja.”

Harry didn’t know if he was imagining it but her welcome seemed even more forceful than last year’s. Flat on his back it did give him a good vantage point to see Moony blushing and glaring as Lars bodily lifted him off the snowmobile despite everyone being fully aware Moony needed no such assistance.

“Guess what Harry,” called Katja, not letting him get distracted.

“What?”

“I did magic!”

“That’s amazing!” cheered Harry as Katja finally let him up after being prompted by Anette. “What was it?”

“I saved a reindeer,” she said smugly.

Harry let Katja drag him to the Södergren cabin after Remus waved him off helping to unpack. She shoved him into a chair at the table and climbed up on the counter to fetch the ginger biscuits from on top of the fridge.

“It happened before Christmas, you were away for _ages,_ I’ve had to wait _forever_ to tell you.”

“I was away the same amount of time as always,” Harry pointed out, nibbling on a biscuit. Katja ignored him.

“So, me and Niklas were exploring the woods with Mathias before the full moon, and we found this reindeer that had wandered off from the herd and got stuck in the mud by the lake. And Mathias wanted to go back and get help from the other adults but we were too far away and it was panicking and we couldn’t get near it without getting stuck in the mud too. And I just kept thinking we have to get it out or the Sami are gonna be really upset and then I got a funny feeling in my head, and Niklas said it was like an invisible giant picked the reindeer up and smacked it on the bum cause it suddenly _flew_ out of the mud and ran off back to its herd. And when we got back and told everyone, Frida says it wasn’t a giant it was my magic!”

“That’s awesome Katja,” said Harry and meaning it.

“I know,” she said smugly. “There was other stuff too but it wasn’t as cool.”

They talked for a while about others things that had happened since last they saw each other, but eventually, as always, things came back to magic.

“Hey now that I’m magic, maybe I can go to school with you!”

“You’re nine years old Kat,” Harry pointed out.

“So?”

“You can’t go to Hogwarts until you’re eleven. Besides I think they only send letters to kids from Britain and Ireland.”

“But _you_ got a letter,” said Katja around a mouthful of biscuit.

“Yeah. Because I’m English.”

Katja snorted.

“Not really. Just cause your accent goes funny when you come back from school.”

“Funny accent huh,” said Harry with a smirk. “Well if I’m not English, what am I then?”

“Swedish, like me,” she said with unwavering certainty.

“You know I was born in England. My parents were English. Remus is... well he’s British at least. Don’t you think that makes me English?”

“Swedish.”

“How about half English, half Swedish?”

Katja thought for a moment with narrowed eyes.

“Hm. Nope! Just Swedish.”

Harry had to laugh. It was unlikely Katja would go to Hogwarts in two years time. Even if by some bizarre twist of fate, she got a letter, Anette was unlikely to let her only daughter go all the way to Scotland when there were places much closer to home where she could learn magic. Still Harry wondered what would happen if Katja and Hermione ever met. In some ways they were quite similar. They both had their own way of looking at the world and that didn’t change based on what anyone else did or thought. Just look at Hermione’s dismissiveness of Divination, though Harry did kind of agree with her there. The difference was that while Hermione relied on books, Katja’s views were more often than not based on her own whims. Katja was also more, he supposed the word was forceful, or maybe blunt, in asserting herself. Harry found it endearing.

Perhaps one day he’d be able to bring both Hermione and Ron here and introduce them to everyone, Katja included.

“So I’m a Swedish wizard called Harry Potter, with a funny accent. That about right?”

“Yep,” Katja confirmed and Harry had to concede.

The rest of the visit went well. It was always nice seeing everyone. Mrs Nilsson had cornered Remus almost immediately to practice duelling and Lars had dragged him away soon afterwards to sit in on the muggle defence training. Moony had mentioned it before but after watching for a bit Harry had to admit he was tempted to try it himself. He wondered if he could convince Moony to show him some techniques during their Patronus lessons, Ron would probably enjoy it too.

Torvald was visiting his grandparents in Norway, but Harry had fun with Katja and Niklas, including spending a fair bit of time in front of the tele at Niklas'. He always forgot how much he enjoyed T.V. until he was watching it after months at school without one. Harry even managed to convince Moony to let him go out on his Firebolt for a bit, just so Oliver Wood didn’t kill him when he got back. He’d insisted on bringing the broom with him to keep it safe. Convinced that if he left it at Hogwarts, the Slytherins would steal it or sabotage it in some way, and then Professor McGonagall would take it away _again_.

Moony clearly thought he was overreacting, even if he didn’t say anything. When they got back to school and Harry spent half his time dodging Slytherins attempts to trip him up in the corridor, or whatever Crabbe and Goyle had been planning only to be foiled by the Gryffindor honour guard Wood had set up to escort Harry between lessons, he was absolutely convinced his worry for his Firebolt’s safety was completely justified.

Malfoy had been sour but quiet ever since Buckbeak's trial. Ron’s dad hadn’t been able to tell them much beyond the fact that while Mr Malfoy hadn’t been arrested, he hadn’t been able to slip out of things with his usual ease, and the aurors were especially motivated to make sure he didn’t manage to. There’d even been talk about bringing some particularly famous auror with a reputation for ruthlessness out of retirement. Needless to say, the morning of the match Draco looked like a strong wind would knock him over. Harry would almost feel sorry for him if he wasn’t distracted by his own roiling nerves.

Of course, his sympathies for any kind of Slytherin quickly vanished once the match started and to a one, every member of the Slytherin team started cheating as if their lives depended on it. Harry supposed he should just be glad Snape wasn’t filling in as referee again. It had been close. Harry thought Madam Hooch was going to pop a blood vessel at one point, but even cheating, the Slytherins were no match for the Gryffindor team – with the help of Harry’s Firebolt of course.

It seemed like all three houses were cheering, Wood was sobbing in happiness, Professor McGonagall was crying even harder, dabbing at her eyes with a Gryffindor flag. Fred and George hoisted Harry up on their shoulders and led the crowd back to the tower to celebrate.

Before the match, Moony had pulled him aside and handed him a small snitch pendant and told him to tap it when he was ready to go to bed and Remus would come and fetch him from the common room, anticipating that if Gryffindor won, the party would go on a lot later than nightfall and not wanting him to miss out. Harry was very glad to be able to stay and celebrate, but kept an eye on the time in mind of Remus' request that he not stay up _too_ far into the early hours of the morning. “Not that Professor McGonagall would let that happen,” Harry had pointed out.

The elation lasted for a full week before exams gripped the school in nerves and stress. There were times when Harry genuinely worried for Hermione’s health during it all. She spent most of the week mumbling facts under her breath, and she constantly had a book out, sometimes several, which wasn’t all that unusual except for the fact that she didn’t put it down even when walking the corridors. Harry had visions of her walking straight off the end of the moving staircases and Ron and he had an unspoken arrangement that one of them would stay at Hermione’s elbow at all times to catch her if she tripped.

Harry couldn’t even join in the relief when the exams were over. His head was stuck on what Professor Trelawney had said to him after his Divination exam. It wasn’t even just the words themselves but the _way_ she’d said it. Not to mention the fact that she didn’t seem to know she was saying anything, even afterwards. He was so caught up on it he waved off going to Hagrid's to celebrate with Ron and Hermione and headed straight for Remus' office.

“Hey Moony. Had your Wolfsbane?” said Harry, his now customary greeting when seeing his guardian alone.

“Hello sprog, and Professor Snape just dropped it round so you can watch me take it.”

Remus finished writing whatever he was writing, and saluted Harry with the steaming goblet before downing it in one. Harry smirked at the grimace Moony pulled at the aftertaste. It didn’t get better no matter how many times he had it, or so Moony told him.

“How did the last of your exams go?” Remus asked, pushing the goblet aside and picking up his quill again.

“Alright I think.”

“Relieved to be done?”

“Yep.”

“Good.”

“... what do you think of Divination?” Harry asked. Not sure if he wanted to tell Moony exactly what Trelawney said, but he wanted to say something to stop it floating around his brain.

“Divination? Um... let’s just say is wasn’t the subject for me and leave it at that,” Moony hedged. “Was that your last exam today, Divination?”

“Yeah.”

“How do you think it went?”

“Not great. Didn’t see anything so I just made something up. Should probably have told her I saw a Grim, then she’d give me an O.”

Moony smirked.

“I wouldn’t even have been lying technically.”

“I thought you said you didn’t see anything?”

“Not in the crystal ball, I meant a few weeks ago, down by the forest.”

Remus suddenly went very still. Any mirth dropping out of his expression in an instant.

“You saw what?”

“Uh, a big black dog, by the forest. The night before the Quidditch match. It was hanging around with Hermione’s cat,” he answered hesitantly.

Remus breathed through his nose in that measured way that said that something was very, very wrong.

“Do you have the map with you?”

Harry winced, knowing that he probably shouldn’t have, having promised Moony to be careful about where he left it, but Moony didn’t seem to think to lecture him as Harry pulled it out of his pocket, merely took it from him, muttered the password and starting scanning it with a slightly frantic gaze.

“Moony, what are you looking for?” asked Harry, disturbed. “You don’t believe in that whole Grim-omen thing, do you?”

Remus looked up at him and Harry was taken aback by the sadness and desperation in his expression.

“I'm so sorry Harry. I’ve been a fool. I know how Sirius Black has been getting into the castle. And it’s my fault.”

Harry felt sick.

“Moony you’re not making any sense.”

“What do you know of Animagi Harry?”

Harry frowned at the seeming non sequitur.

“Witches and wizards who can transform into animals, but why... the dog. Sirius Black. Sirius Black is an animagus! But how is that your fault?”

“Because he became one, they all did, for me. Unregistered. And I never told a soul,” Remus confessed, his head in his hands. “I’ve been so blind. All year I’ve been trying to work out how he got in, trying to keep you safe, and I had the answer the whole time.”

“It’s not your fault Moony,” said Harry firmly. “It’s _not!_ Besides you have kept me safe, I’m right here safe and sound. And at least we know now.”

Remus gave him a brittle smile, but Harry counted it as a win.

“So the map, you think he’s still in the castle? Will he even show up as a dog?”

“Yes, no matter what enchantments are on you or what form you’re in, if you’re in Hogwarts, your name will appear on the map.”

Kneeling up in his chair, Harry started to scour the map alongside Moony. By habit his eyes immediately sought out his own name and Ron and Hermione’s first. He paused when he spotted a familiar name next to Ron’s though.

“Peter Pettigrew."

“What?” asked Remus anxiously.

“Isn’t Peter dead?”

“Yes, twelve years ago.”

“Then how come his name's here?” asked Harry, tapping the name still hovering beside Ron’s.

When Moony didn’t answer Harry looked up to find him sheet white.

“It’s a mistake, right? Or it’s lying.”

“The map doesn’t make mistakes. And it can’t lie.” Moony swallowed harshly, his voice strained. “We need to get Minerva, and then we need to find Ron.”

Moony folded up the map and thrust it into Harry’s hands, not bothering to close it properly and rushed out of the room. Harry sticking closely to his heels. He didn’t really understand what was happening but it couldn’t be good, and if Ron was in trouble Harry was going to be there.

“Professor Lupin, I really should not have to tell you to knock,” Professor McGonagall scolded as Remus and Harry charged into her office, one after the other.

“Forgive me but this is important,” excused Remus. “First, do you know if Azkaban is warded against Animagi?

“What? Why on earth would I... why do you want to know?” Remus simply raised his eyebrows, a short pause and McGonagall sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening behind her glasses. “Lupin are you suggesting that Mr Black-"

“Not just him.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

“You know what I’m saying Minerva. It was our fifth year.”

“I'm sure I have no idea what you’re talking about,” said McGonagall sternly.

“You may not have known but you had to have suspected. It was the quietest month since Sirius and James arrived at Hogwarts. They were trying not to swallow-"

“The mandrake leaves,” she finished for him. “We need to inform Albus.”

“No, wait, there’s more to this. James and Peter became animagi as well.”

“How is that relevant?”

“Because Peter’s animagus form is a rat!”

“Is?”

“Peter’s alive.” McGonagall went very still at that pronouncement, her face carefully blank. In a funny way it reminded him of Moony. “Harry, what’s the name of Ron’s rat?”

Harry jerked at being addressed. He’d thought the adults in the room had forgotten him and taken to scanning the map for his friends' names again.

“You mean Scabbers?”

“Is Scabbers missing any toes?”

“Yeah, one on his front paw... why?”

“The only remains of Mr Pettigrew discovered was a finger,” McGonagall answered for Remus, sounding foreboding.

“So what, Scabbers is _Peter_?” said Harry, his tone disbelieving even as a sinking feeling grew in his stomach at the realisation that it would explain a lot of things.

“Mr Potter, do you know where Mr Weasley is currently?”

“No, that’s the thing Professor, his name has disappeared, so has Peter Pettigrew's.”

Remus joined him in scanning the map, and out of the corner of his eye Harry saw Professor McGonagall eyeing it as well with interest and confusion. Any other time Harry would be put out that he was probably about to lose the map when he’d only had it for a few months, but his worry for Ron overshadowed everything else for the moment. Just at that moment an alarm began to sound and Professor McGonagall pulled out a curious long, thin piece of wood with seven doors painted on it, one of which was emitting a red glow that pulsed in time to the siren.

“Someone’s entered the tunnel,” said Remus. “It has to be them.”

Harry didn’t really understand what was happening, he was still trying to wrap his head around the idea that Scabbers wasn’t actually Scabbers, but McGonagall seemed to understand what Moony was saying and in short order the three of them were racing through the castle. They made it outside and Harry had just worked out that they were heading straight for the Whomping Willow when Hermione came running towards them from that direction.

“It took Ron! I couldn’t stop it!” she cried, tears in her eyes, and Harry realised when she took a step back, a bloody gash across her forehead.

“Miss Granger!” said McGonagall in alarm.

“Hermione what happened?”

“We were coming back from Hagrid’s, and Scabbers bit Ron and Ron chased after him, but then this dog came out of nowhere and grabbed Ron by the arm and-and dragged him beneath the Whomping Willow. I tried to go after him but the Willow smacked me away before I could get close!”

Harry didn’t wait to listen to any more and ignored the adults shouting his name as he ran towards the tree, his only thought was getting to Ron. Avoiding the furious branches couldn’t be any harder than an enchanted bludger could it? Harry chose to ignore the fact that that encounter ended him with a broken arm. He entered into a dangerous dance backwards and forwards, getting within a hand’s breadth of the trunk only to be driven back several paces and starting all over again.

He was just about frustrated enough to make a run for it, if he got whomped he got whomped, when a stone whipped past his right ear and bounced off a knot at the base of the tree and the branches froze, then Remus was there, grabbing him by the back of his robes and pulling him along with a sharp _hurry._ Before Harry knew it, they were slipping through the gap in the roots and racing through the tunnel underneath.

It seemed to go on for ages, the tree roots dangling from the ceiling casting eerie shadows in the light of the lumos Remus had cast to light their way. All Harry could think about was Ron being dragged through there by a dog – that if it was the same one that Harry had seen – was close to the size of bear, and recent revelations suggested it may actually be the possibly-or-possibly-not-mass-murderer Sirius Black. What Harry would give for a simple life.

At long last they pulled themselves out of the hole at the end of the tunnel into an old house, every inch of which was ravaged and stained. A thin layer of dust covered every surface, though it was thicker in places, and there was a noticeable clean streak that snaked away from the tunnel entrance and up the stairs. Even as Harry looked around with grim interest, he noticed Moony’s pinched expression, his gaze very carefully avoiding the dark stains streaked across the floorboards and some of the walls.

A creak above them had them carefully climbing the staircase and stopping beside the open door. Remus placed a hand on his shoulder and Harry pulled out his wand, tensing when he heard Ron's voice giving out a pained moan. With a sharp nod Remus flung the door fully open and Harry darted in behind him. Ron was lying on the floor beside a huge four-poster bed, pale with sweat on his brow and his leg bent at an unnatural angle, cradling his arm.

“Ron!” cried Harry, throwing himself down next to his friend.

“ _Expelliarmus!”_ he heard shouted behind him in a strangled voice, and Harry’s wand slipped out of his white-knuckle grip before he could do anything to stop it. He whipped around in time to see Remus snatch it out of the air before it could land in the other man’s outstretched hand.

“It’s a trap Harry, he’s an animagus!” hissed Ron through teeth gritted in pain.

Harry turned and finally looked upon the man that had haunted him all year, and his guardian for much longer. His first impression of his godfather was something more wraith than man. The dark hair was even longer and more matted than the picture in the Prophet, his clothes torn and grey, his eyes sunken into his head, the fingernails on the hand gripping Ron’s wand were yellow and encrusted with dirt. The wand was aimed at Moony.

“Reflexes as quick as ever. Prongs always said you’d have made an excellent Keeper,” Sirius croaked. “Are you going to kill me Remus?”

“No Pads,” answered Remus, voice thick with emotion. Soft in a way Harry had never heard it before. “I just need to know the truth... He didn’t show himself before now... it has to be...did you switch without telling anyone?”

Sirius Black looked back at Remus with a look of unending grief, and gave a slow nod.

All of the breath left Remus at once as he dropped the arm holding his and Harry’s wands, then the two men staggered forwards into a desperate embrace.

“I'm so sorry!” gasped Remus and Sirius gripped him tighter, one filthy hand coming up to cradle the back of Moony’s head.

The moment was broken when Ron, who had been getting steadily greener in pain, finally had enough.

“What the hell is happening?” he snapped.

Harry didn’t know how to answer that, having only worked out part of it, but one thing was clear at least.

“He’s innocent,” said Harry.

“What do you mean innocent? _Have you all gone bloody insane!_ Why is your uncle hugging Sirius Black? He just tried to rip my arm off!”

“I'm sorry Ron, here.” Moony turned back to them and tapped Ron’s leg with his wand, handing Harry’s wand back to him in the process, and with a muttered _Ferula_ , bandages began winding themselves around Ron’s leg, strapping it to a splint.

“Your arm. Of course! Ron, where’s Scabbers?” asked Harry

Ron frowned at him in confusion, but the bandages seemed to have reduced the pain enough for him to lose the greenish tint, and without any more questions he used his unbruised arm to pull the familiar rat out of his pocket. The moment Scabbers was visible there was a flurry of activity as Crookshanks jumped up hissing and Sirius leapt at them, a manic look in his eyes. It was only Moony holding him back bodily that stopped him landing directly on Ron’s freshly bandaged leg, and it was only Ron’s tight grip on Scabbers’ tail that kept the desperately struggling rat from escaping in the confusion, or being eaten by the furiously spitting cat.

“Sirius, wait!” panted Remus, struggling to hold him back.

“Give me that rat, I want to commit the murder I was imprisoned for!”

“He’s mental!” yelled Ron, trying to shove a thrashing Scabbers back into his pocket while dodging Sirius and Crookshanks who was now swiping at the rat from above his head.

“They deserve an explanation; _Harry_ deserves an explanation!”

That at last seemed to get through to Sirius and he stopped, darting a glance at Harry who was sure he probably looked as unsettled as he felt.

“Quickly then,” he conceded, eyes fixing back on the rat in Ron’s hand with a murderous glare.

“Okay,” said Remus taking a breath. “Harry, I don’t know how much you’ve already worked out, I’ve already explained about the Fidelius Charm and the secret keeper...”

“And I know that Sirius and Peter and my dad, I guess? All became animagi, and that Scabbers is actually Peter,” Harry ignored Ron’s shocked and disbelieving ‘ _what!’_ next to him “and Sirius is innocent. But I don’t understand how Scabbers being Peter, and Peter being alive means that Sirius didn’t kill my parents!” said Harry desperately, and wishing Hermione was there who would no doubt be able to make sense of things.

“I did kill them,” said Sirius sounding pained. “Or as good as. I was supposed to be the secret keeper, that’s what we told everyone. But then I got an idea, and at the last minute I persuaded James and Lily to switch to Peter. After all I thought, I’m the obvious choice, but the Death Eater's would never suspect harmless, little, _Peter!”_

By the end of it, Sirius was spitting with fury, his fingers twitching as if he was only just holding back from wrapping his hands around the rat and squeezing the life from him.

“The night they died I’d arranged to check Peter was still safe, but when I arrived at his hiding place, he was gone. The whole place was empty. It didn’t feel right. I was scared. I apparated straight to your parents’ house and what I saw – the house was destroyed, their bodies – I realised what Peter had done. What I’d done. I chased after him, cornered him in the street. The coward cut off his finger, shouted for all the world to hear that _I_ had betrayed Lily and James, then blew up half the street with the wand behind his back, transformed and disappeared into the sewer with the other rats.”

For a while there was only the sound of Scabbers’ frightened squeaking but then Ron spoke up.

“No, no. You’re both mad! Scabbers is my pet rat, he’s been in my family for years, he’s not some secret murderer! Harry you can’t really believe this.”

Harry studied Ron’s desperate face. The bandages had helped but he was still pale and tense with pain. He looked back at Moony and Sirius with determination.

“Prove it to us,” he said. “Turn him back.”

Moony met his gaze and nodded then turned to Ron who was still gripping a half exhausted but still struggling Scabbers by the tail.

“If he is truly just a rat, it won’t hurt him I swear,” Remus promised when Ron hesitated.

At last Ron handed Scabbers over and a new lease of energy seemed to grip the rat as he twisted around to sink his teeth in Moony’s finger. Moony didn’t even flinch.

“Together?” asked Sirius, raising Ron’s wand.

“I think so.”

On the count of three there was a flash of blue light and Scabbers was no more. In the rat’s place stood an unkempt, squat, hunched over man with balding, stringy hair and pale watery eyes that darted back and forth around the room, but going back to the door more often than not which Sirius quickly stepped in front of.

“Hello Peter,” said Moony in a quiet, dangerous voice that Harry could only remember hearing once before in his life. It was an incident he didn’t remember much of; he was very young at the time. All he knew was that they’d been in the city. There were some very angry people and Moony had spoken to them with that exact voice right before Freydis had pulled Harry away. Moony had come back later and Harry spent most of that night held protectively in his arms.

Harry had never seen an interrogation but thought that was probably the best way to describe what followed. Peter sputtered out lies and accusations which Moony or Sirius quickly disproved until at last the whole hideous truth was laid out, at which point Peter starting scraping and begging through half baked excuses. It was only when Remus and Sirius raised their wands to execute Peter, Moony still using that eerie calm voice, that Harry stepped in and stopped them.

“He deserves it, Harry. You know what he did,” spat Sirius.

“I know. But I don’t think my dad would want his two best friends to be killers, not for him,” he reasoned, gesturing at the cowering man behind him. “Besides, we need him don’t we. To prove you’re innocent.”

Moony had dropped his wand instinctively the moment Harry stepped in front of it, but at that point so did Sirius.

“We’ll have to tie him up,” Moony pointed out, and Harry stepped aside to let him do so.

Sirius stepped up and put a wand against Peter’s throat and Remus and Harry both tensed, but Sirius didn’t lay a finger on the whimpering mess of a man, just hissed a warning.

“If you try and transform, I will snap your traitorous neck before you can so much as pop a whisker.”

With that Sirius conjured a set of manacles and Moony, probably wisely, volunteered his own wrist to be chained to Peter before Sirius could do it himself. Sirius conceded and instead took a place up next to Ron along with Harry to help him hobble back through the tunnel.

Remus and Peter went first, Moony’s wand trained on the latter just in case. Harry, Ron and Sirius shuffled along slowly behind them. It was a long stretch of quiet hobbling when Sirius' rough voice broke the silence.

“I looked for you, when I first got out. Privet Drive,” he said hesitantly.

“Privet Drive?” asked Harry.

“Where the Dursley's live, your aunt and uncle’s you know. I couldn’t find you. Wanted to see that you were okay...”

“Oh, I uh. I don’t live with them anymore.”

“You don’t?”

“Not since I was a baby. Moony came and got me, I’ve lived with him ever since.”

“He did? Of course he did,” Sirius looked at Moony’s silhouette ahead of them with a soft, genuine smile that transformed him into a man ten years younger. With a jolt Harry remembered a picture he’d found in one of Remus' albums years ago of his mum and dad’s wedding. Next to his mum was a younger smiling Moony, but next to his dad was another man, tall, dark-haired and handsome, his head thrown back in laughter. “It’s good they let you stay with him,” said Sirius and Harry was brought back to the present. He wasn’t quite sure if by ‘they’ Sirius meant the Dursley’s or the Ministry, but either way...

“I don’t know that they _let_ me stay with him. We kind of left the country before the Ministry found out.”

“What happened when they did find out?”

“They still don’t bloody know,” Ron answered for him with a grunt.

Sirius let out a bark of laughter that seemed to surprise himself as much as everyone else. The three of them jumped again as a hiss of pain sounded ahead of them.

“I’m so sorry Professor Lupin!” came Hermione’s voice as they awkwardly climbed out of the tunnel.

“That's quite alright Hermione, no harm done,” Moony reassured, flexing his hand as much as he could without taking his wand off Peter.

The gash on Hermione’s forehead was gone suggesting that McGonagall had managed to drag her away to see Madam Pomfrey, and Harry wondered how soon after she got fixed up that Hermione managed to sneak back out to come after them. Based on the amount of stones scattered around the base of the willow, Harry had to assume she’d been trying to get in for a while, and ironically only managed to hit the knot on the trunk when Moony was already pressing it from the other side.

After making sure that Remus really was fine, Hermione rushed up to Harry and Ron, only to stop short at the sight of Sirius.

“It’s okay Hermione. He’s innocent, he’s not here to hurt me,” Harry rushed to reassure.

“Are you sure?” she asked, looking dubiously between the man and Ron’s bandaged leg.

Sirius ducked his head and stepped away, Hermione immediately insinuating herself under Ron’s right arm in his place.

“I'm sure, look I’ll explain everything but we’ve got to get Ron to Pomfrey,” Harry promised.

“Fine, but at least explain who _that_ is,” she huffed, nodding towards Pettigrew.

“It’s Scabbers!” spat Ron.

“It’s what?”

“It’s Peter Pettigrew, the one who _actually_ betrayed my parents and killed all those muggles,” Harry explained. “He’s an animagus. He’s been hiding as Scabbers for the past twelve years.”

“I let him sleep in my _bed!”_ moaned Ron.

Hermione opened her mouth to respond but before she could, they were all brought to a standstill when Sirius abruptly threw out an arm to stop them. While they’d been talking, the cloud cover had parted just enough for the moonlight to peak through and bathe their party in its silver glow.

Moony had gone rigid, as if the light had turned him to stone mid-stride. Then he began to shake.

“Sirius... get them out of here!” he cried in a voice subsumed with pain. Then he screamed.

“Run,” Sirius whispered, “run now.”

“His potion, didn’t he take it?” asked Hermione, shaking Harry out of his momentary horror-struck daze.

“The Wolfsbane, yes he did!”

“Wolfsbane, are you sure?” asked Sirius.

“Yes, I watched him take it, I swear!”

“ _Watch_ _out!”_ shouted Ron.

As he’d transformed, Moony’s wolf had wrenched itself free of the manacle and an unchained Pettigrew had seized his chance and dove for Remus' dropped wand. Harry disarmed him with an _Expelliarmus_ but not before a flash of light hit Ron in the chest and Harry and Hermione struggled to stay upright as he went limp between them. The moment the wand left his grip, Pettigrew transformed into a rat and scurried away.

“Oh no you don’t!” snarled Sirius, and with an accompanying growl from the now fully transformed werewolf, Sirius transformed as well and both wolf and dog were sprinting away after the rapidly disappearing bald tail of their traitorous school friend.

With little more he and Hermione could do, they began pulling a now much heavier Ron up to the castle, but then there, in the darkness a new noise reached them. A dog yelping in pain.

“Sirius,” Harry whispered, and turned with desperation back to Hermione.

“I’ve got Ron, you go,” she told him, “be careful.”

Harry nodded, feeling grateful more than ever to have the friends he did, and sprinted in the direction of the yelping, which had now turned into a low distressed whining. It was coming from the lake.

As he reached the shore, he saw that the noise wasn’t coming from Sirius anymore. His godfather had turned back into a man and was curled up on the cold ground with his arms over his head, muttering the word _no_ over and over again. The whining was instead coming from the wolf standing protectively over him, his ears pinned back against his head. Harry didn’t even have time to feel relief at the sight of the struggling rat hanging by his tail from the wolf’s jaws in a bizarre mirror of earlier on that evening, because that was when he saw them. At least a hundred Dementors converging on them from around the lake.

Just like every time before, Harry pulled out his wand and tried to focus on his happy memory even as ice filled his veins. But these weren’t Boggarts, unable to truly hurt him, and Moony was in no position to help him.

_“Expecto Patronum!”_ Harry cried as the first of the Dementor’s glided onto their side of the lake. A faint silver mist made the Dementor stop but Harry couldn’t sustain it for long. The memory of his mother’s screams was growing louder in the back of his mind. The rat had gone limp in the wolf’s jaws, whose whining had been replaced with a low rumbling growl.

A wave of ice swept up from behind him and Harry turned to find more Dementors less than ten feet away and creeping closer from the other side. He tried the spell again but this time it was little more than a silver haze and the Dementors barely hesitated before continuing their slow glide closer. Black fog was edging in around Harry’s vision and he fell to his knees. He no longer had the energy to lift his wand even as the Dementor closest to him reached out its rotting, pale fingers. Distantly he noticed he was now lying on his back, and his vision was taken up by a wall of grey fur. The ferocious snarling above him sent vibrations through the ground on which he lay.

Just as the dark was about to pull him all the way down, there was the distant sound of footsteps, and then a bright light was chasing away the dark and filling the sky. The ice retreated from his veins and the wall of fur was moving away. In its place was a silver glowing cat, perched on Harry’s chest, with strangely familiar markings.

It took a moment for Harry’s brain to switch back on, and he realised what he was looking at was a fully formed Patronus, and then its caster was there, helping him to sit up with gentle hands.

“Are you alright Potter?” asked Professor McGonagall quietly.

Looking around her Harry saw that Professor Dumbledore was stood above them on the ridge, his wand held aloft and pointing in the direction of where a large silver bird was driving the Dementors back beyond the tree line of the Forbidden Forest. Beside Harry lay Sirius unconscious, as well as a still transformed but equally unconscious Peter Pettigrew. Moony had dropped the rat in order to better protect Harry it seemed, it was sheer luck that Pettigrew had already passed out and couldn’t run again when he did so.

Speaking of Moony, Harry jumped when the wolf drew his attention by nudging his shoulder affectionately. Harry couldn’t help but smile. For all that this happened every month in all of the eleven and a half years that Harry had lived with him, this was the first time Harry had ever seen Moony’s wolf form. If it wasn’t for the fact that Harry still had the screams of pain as Remus transformed stuck in his head, Harry would say it was actually quite magnificent.

“Can you walk Potter?” asked McGonagall. Dumbledore had finished banishing the Dementors and had instead conjured a stretcher for Sirius.

“I think so,” answered Harry. “Oh, wait first...”

Harry learned over and gingerly picked up the limp rat by its tail.

“This is Peter Pettigrew. He’s the one who betrayed my parents.” Moony let out a quiet huff of anger, “we need to tie him up before he wakes up and escapes again. It’s the only way to prove my godfather is innocent.”

McGonagall’s lips thinned and looked at the rat with barely restrained fury. She gave a sharp nod then began to gather up a handful of twigs, quickly transfiguring them into a rat-sized metal cage which Harry dropped Pettigrew into with some relief.

“Well, now. I suggest we all make our way back to the castle and you to the hospital wing Harry, before our dear Madam Pomfrey has us all in detention,” said Dumbledore cheerfully, giving no sign that any of that night’s events were any more unusual or surprising than any other. Although Harry did notice him eyeing the cage in Professor McGonagall’s hand with a considering look on his face once or twice.

Dumbledore floated the stretcher with Sirius on it ahead of him, and Harry leant on Moony, his hand sinking into thick grey fur, as they made their way back up to the castle. He hoped Madam Pomfrey would have some more of that hot chocolate she had given him after the incident at the Quidditch match. Hot chocolate it seemed would have to wait though as at the entrance the group found waiting Hermione, Professor Snape, the Minister of Magic, and two men in long robes bearing the insignia of the Ministry that Harry didn’t know.

The moment the group came into view, Hermione ran to catch up with them, relief plain to see.

“Harry, thank God!” she said, wrapping her arms around him. Harry’s grip on Moony’s hackles, the only thing keeping him upright.

“Ah, Headmaster! I see you’ve captured Black. Jolly good work, we'll take it from here,” called the Minister.

“For _goodness_ sake!” Hermione muttered under her breath before turning around and raising her voice, “Wait Minister, it’s like me and Ron already told you. Sirius Black is innocent, there’s been a mistake.”

“Peter Pettigrew is the real murderer, he framed Sirius, we can prove it!” added Harry.

“Clearly Black has confunded these two along with Mr Weasley, Minister,” Snape drawled. There was a manic look in his eyes as he looked at Sirius' unconscious body that had Harry instinctively moving closer to his godfather. “These three have rather a high opinion of themselves, no doubt they thought to catch Black singlehandedly and paid the price. I’ll be happy to escort them to the hospital wing immediately while you deal with the criminal.”

Harry scowled at Snape, fuming. If it wasn’t for Pettigrew, still unconscious in the cage, Harry would have wondered if it was possible to hate a person more than he did Snape at that moment.

“We’re not confunded, it’s the truth!” said Hermione.

“Quite right, Snape... quite right. In any case, better they not witness what’s next... terrible business. Gentlemen, please restrain Black before he wakes up,” ordered Fudge.

The two men, aurors, Harry now realised, stepped forwards with their wands raised and just as quickly stumbled back when Moony leapt between them with a warning growl like rolling thunder.

“Merlin’s balls!” yelled one of them. Their focus on Sirius meant they hadn’t noticed the werewolf who’d been standing still and silent at Harry’s side until then.

Snape meanwhile seemed paralysed in fear, his usually pallid skin had somehow managed to get even paler, all in all he looked a few seconds away from fainting. A curious reaction, Harry thought, considering he was the one brewing Remus’ Wolfsbane all year.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it however as a red light shot from the aurors wand directly at Moony. Harry’s heart was in his throat even as the stunner bounced harmlessly off the shield Dumbledore cast wordlessly around their little group.

“Kindly refrain from attacking my members of staff please gentlemen,” the Headmaster said firmly.

Fudge gaped.

“You mean to say that _that_ is a- now really Dumbledore! This is simply not...”

Dumbledore simply waited with a patient smile while the Minister blistered.

“That is not the issue at hand,” Professor McGonagall interrupted sharply. Her lips thinned with displeasure as she considered the men in front of her. “I suggest we return to resolving the situation with Mr Black. Now, Albus and I both believe there is some truth to what these three have said, unless you would like to suggest Severus, that Mr Black has somehow managed to bewitch both the Headmaster and myself despite being unconscious from the moment we discovered him!”

Harry had to bite back a vindictive smirk as Snape conspicuously avoided anyone’s eyes in response to the scolding.

“Well, this should be fairly simple to resolve. I believe you keep a store of veritaserum in your office, do you not Severus? I suggest we all return there and revive Mr Black and Mr Pettigrew and see what they have to say,” said Dumbledore.

“Mr Pettigrew? You mean to say that you have the man, _alive?”_

McGonagall cleared her throat and lifted the cage, the sleeping rat inside visible in the moonlight.

“I’m sure your questions will be answered forthwith Minister. Inside,” the Headmaster prompted when Fudge looked on with confusion.

What followed Harry experienced in something of a haze, the night’s craziness finally catching up to him. He remembered that after Snape fetched the Potion, he retreated to a position as close to the door as he could get without physically leaving the room and stood scowling at all and sundry. Moony meanwhile had stationed himself next to Sirius and stared at the aurors with wide, unblinking, amber eyes that had both of them avoiding his gaze, and one of them visibly squirming. Both kept their hands well away from their wands Harry noticed, and no one tried to restrain Sirius again, even when Professor Dumbledore woke him up with a _rennervate!_

Fudge nearly fell over when Professor McGonagall forced Pettigrew out of his animagus shape. Seeing his new audience, the rat immediately started spewing out the same lies and excuses he’d tried in the Shack, and Fudge, the bumbling fool, actually seemed to be buying it. When the veritaserum was produced Pettigrew tried to run again, but eight wands pointed at him meant he didn’t get far, even if he tried to transform.

The truth came out with no small amount of whimpering and the aurors took Pettigrew away. Fudge tried to insist that Sirius be held at the Ministry until after Peter’s trial as well but was quickly shouted down by Harry, a growling Moony, and a righteously irate Professor McGonagall, and quickly left too with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

“Well now. That’s quite enough excitement for one night I should think. Professor Lupin, may I suggest that you return to your office and try and get some rest. Minerva would you please go and ask the house-elves to make something to eat for Mr Black here and deliver it to the hospital wing where I believe the rest of us should head now. Madam Pomfrey, I suspect, will wish to look over Mr Black and you Harry, and no doubt you and Miss Granger wish to check on Mr Weasley,” said Dumbledore.

Before anyone could move however, Moony let out a low growl that ended in a whine, ears back, his gaze swivelling back and forth between Harry, Sirius, and the Headmaster.

“No harm will come to either of them Remus, on my word,” Dumbledore promised quietly.

“I’ll come and find you once Pomfrey lets me out Moony,” Sirius added, stroking his head soothingly.

It was only when his gaze flicked over Dumbledore’s shoulder to Professor McGonagall who gave him a nod that Moony left, nudging Harry affectionately one last time as he brushed passed on silent paws. Harry wondered if he was imagining the remorse in Dumbledore’s expression as he watched him go. The relationship between his guardian and the Headmaster confused Harry. He knew Moony didn’t fully trust Dumbledore, but he’d thought things had gotten better this year what with Dumbledore giving him a job at Hogwarts, that interaction suggested things weren’t as improved as Harry had thought. He was sure he wasn’t imagining the fondness in Sirius' expression as he looked after the wolf on the other hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a monster chapter this one, couldn't work out how to split it, but yay we finally have some Sirius in this Remus/Sirius fic! Not far to go now. Hope you're enjoying.


	12. Chapter 12

Even after the pain of his transformation faded to the point he would usually get up, Remus found himself lying flat on his back and staring blankly at the ceiling of his office for a long while afterwards. It had taken him some time to get used to remembering what happened on full moon nights, but last night especially seemed like some kind of fever dream. Sirius was innocent. The words floated around his head in big block letters, rising above the rest of the mess of his thoughts until they were all he could think. Sirius. Was. Innocent. And with Peter in custody, Sirius was _free_.

At long last Remus peeled himself off the floor and grabbed his cane to limp his way towards the hospital wing. It was still early, most of the students would still be asleep, as well as a few staff. Sirius hadn’t come and found him but Remus wouldn’t be surprised if Poppy had chained him to a bed just to make sure he rested for the night. He was stubbornly ignoring the voice in the back of his head that whispered that Sirius was already gone, had left him behind again. If Remus walked a little faster than he normally would the morning after a full moon then at least no one was around to notice.

In any case, his first point of call was to check on Harry, who as it turned out had stayed in the hospital wing along with Hermione to keep Ron company. All three of them were still asleep, and after the events of last night, Remus wouldn’t be surprised if they slept until noon. Harry had forgotten to take his glasses off again. Remus gently eased them off and placed them neatly folded on the side table for him when he woke up, he smoothed the hair back from Harry’s forehead and tugged the blankets straight from where they’d become twisted, then finally turned to the figure sitting up, watching him quietly from the corner.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Remus asked in a whisper, limping over and taking a seat on the bed next to Sirius.

Sirius shrugged.

“I'm surprised Poppy didn’t give you a draught.”

“She tried, I said no. Wanted to be awake if the aurors came back for me,” said Sirius with a bitter smile.

“That won’t happen. It _won’t_ ,” Remus insisted. “You’re free now Sirius. I won’t let them take you again,” he added quietly.

“You won’t huh? Moony vs the Ministry.”

“You’re not the only one with experience hiding from the Ministry, you know,” He said wryly.

“Mm. Harry mentioned something about fleeing the country?” said Sirius with interest.

“Yes, well. You know how the Ministry feels about people like me. We’re not legally allowed custody of our own children, they were hardly going to let me keep the Boy Who Lived, even if I’d had Dumbledore’s support. Leaving Britain was our only option.”

“Wait, Dumbledore didn’t want you to have him either?” Sirius frowned.

“Those first few years would have been a hell of a lot easier if he did,” Remus laughed with little humour. “He was the one that put Harry with Lily’s sister and her family and was rather eager to get him back there. I spent most of those early years having nightmares that no matter where we went, he was only one step behind us. Once we got settled where we are now, I sent him a letter explaining what happened and telling him that nothing short of James and Lily returning from beyond the grave would make me give him up. I don’t know when he stopped searching for us... but I still have Harry.”

There was a pause while Remus got lost in his memories. It wasn’t often he thought about those early years. Before he’d found the commune, he took Harry across Europe, rarely staying anywhere longer than a month or two. Every full moon was a gamble, finding someone to look after Harry. Using his contacts from his work in the war, hoping desperately that none of them would recognise Harry for who he was and report him to Dumbledore. And all the time the general stress of learning to look after a toddler on his own with barely enough money to feed himself never mind a growing child.

“Thank you,” said Sirius, breaking the silence.

“For what?”

“For doing what I should have. Looking after Harry.”

“You would have if you could Pads, you weren’t here-"

“-Exactly! I wasn’t here, but I _should_ have been,” Sirius interrupted. “If I hadn’t been so stupid, I was... I’ve played that night over and over in my mind, I almost had Harry in my _hands_ Moony. But Hagrid insisted on taking him to the Dursley’s, Dumbledore’s orders. I thought Dumbledore would keep him safe. But if he had Harry, who had Peter? So I went... Stupid, _stupid!_ ”

“Sirius, enough. Of course you went after Peter, you were the only one who knew what he’d done. None of us even suspected.”

“I should have just taken Harry and ran, like you did.”

“You think Hagrid would have let you? He’s a good man Hagrid, but we both know there isn’t anything that he wouldn’t do for Albus, he’s absolutely loyal to him. Of course we all were back then...” Remus pointed out. “Besides, when I took Harry from the Dursley’s I wasn’t thinking, I just acted. It has to be chance as much as anything that things worked out the way they did for us.”

“I think your selling yourself short there Moony. You haven’t changed that much then,” said Sirius with a small smirk.

Remus huffed and looked away just like he always used to when Sirius said anything the slightest bit complementary, and the smirk grew.

“What are you going to do now?” asked Remus, not so subtly changing the subject. Sirius’ eyes glittered with amusement but he let it go without comment.

“I... honestly have no idea,” he said after some thought. “I’ve spent the last twelve years thinking about hunting down the rat, I never really thought about what might happen after I caught him.”

“Well you’ve got the Black family fortune Pads, you could–" Remus broke off abruptly as something occurred to him.

“Moony?”

“Harry’s Firebolt. That _was_ you, wasn’t it?”

Sirius grinned.

“Yeah, that was me,” he confessed. “I snuck in as Padfoot to watch the matches. _Merlin_ that boy can fly, I think he’s even better than James! Anyway, I haven’t been able to do much for Harry, but at least I could buy him a new broom after what happened to his Nimbus. It was my fault he lost it after all. He fell because of the Dementors and the Dementors were only there because of me.”

Remus had been listening with a soft smile as Sirius enthused about Harry’s flying. He couldn’t help frowning at the guilt-laden turn but didn’t know what to say to stop it.

“How did you even buy it without being caught?” he asked instead.

“Crookshanks took the order to the Owl Office in Harry’s name but I told them to take the gold from my vault.”

“Hermione’s cat?”

“Yeah. He’s been trying to bring Peter to me all year, and when that didn’t work he stole a list of the Gryffindor passwords for me. He’s no ordinary cat,” Sirius shrugged.

“Has to be part-kneazle at the very least,” said Remus. There was a pause as he tried to work up the nerve to say what he wanted to say before the conversation ran away from them. “You could stay with us, you know- if you wanted to...” he offered, then immediately winced at the awkward delivery.

“Wha- really?”

“Well, I mean. I’m sure Harry wouldn’t mind. It would give you and him a chance to get to know each other again, after all, you are his godfather.”

Sirius grinned.

“Yeah. Yeah I’d love to. Oh wait, do you think Dumbledore would let me stay here though? I’m not exactly a Professor.”

“I don’t know, but neither will I be soon enough so it won’t matter either way. I didn’t mean Hogwarts,” said Remus. “Oh Merlin, I’ll have to start looking for another job soon.” He muttered the last bit to himself.

“Moony, what are you on about?”

“The Ministry saw me last night Sirius,” Remus pointed out. “In fact, not just the Ministry but the Minister of Magic himself. They know what I am. They’re not going to let me stay here teaching kids, are they? Too dangerous.”

“Oh that is total Hippogriff dung! You weren’t a danger to anyone last night.”

“I growled at the aurors.”

“Well they deserved it!”

Remus had to smile at that familiar response. Sirius had always been fiercely loyal to his friends and that was always his answer when one of them got detention for pranking or duelling other students, most commonly the group of proto-Death Eaters that Lucius Malfoy led if he remembered rightly. Remus had to admit that in hindsight not all of their victims had been so deserving however.

“It’s not up to the Ministry anyway, it’s Dumbledore’s call who he hires and fires,” Sirius continued.

“Even if he ignores the Ministry, chances are that Fudge or one of those aurors is going to tell someone, who will tell someone else and so on until eventually it reaches someone who has a child at Hogwarts. Then it’s just a matter of time before the complaints and the Howlers from all the parents come flooding in.” Remus shook his head. “Even if Albus did try to fight for me, it won’t take much to get the Board of Governors involved and then we could both get suspended.”

Sirius scowled but didn’t try to argue. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered instead in a way that made Remus wary. “If you weren’t talking about Hogwarts, where do you and Harry stay then, have you got a place in Hogsmeade?”

“No, goodness no,” Remus laughed. “As lovely as it would be to be so close to Harry in term time, we couldn’t risk Hogsmeade. Too expensive as much as anything else.”

“Then I’ll buy one! We could go next week and start looking, and bring Harry along, it’s perfect.”

“You- you want to buy a house?”

“Yeah, it’s a great idea don’t you think? We could still spend the holidays wherever you’re living if you like, but come back to Hogsmeade when Harry’s at school so we can see him on the weekends.”

“Sirius that’s a big commitment and a lot of money, are you sure?” asked Remus, feeling slightly shell shocked.

“Of course, you know I never liked living alone. Besides it’s like you said Moony, I have the whole Black family fortune, what better way to spend it than on the people I love,” said Sirius with a soft smile.

“ _People_ ,” echoed Remus quietly, smiling back. His mind instinctively shied away from any implications he might pull from that particular wording, but a warm blossom of hope unfurled within his chest nevertheless.

They talked for a little longer, until Poppy woke up and came over to tut at Sirius and try and force another sleeping draught onto him at which point Remus wisely retreated.

Usually if he was able to walk after the last moon of the cycle, he would make the effort to eat with the rest of the staff and students in the great hall, but the exceptional events of the night before warranted breakfast in the privacy of his own rooms, Remus decided. He was limping along the corridor, bracing himself for the next staircase when a voice called out from behind him.

“Professor Lupin!”

Remus turned to find Fred and George Weasley running towards him. He got on well with the twins. They reminded Remus of how James and Sirius were at school, and he’d managed to endear himself to them simply by always addressing them by the correct names. The fact that the pair looked out for Harry like a second younger brother helped a good deal as well.

“Hello boys, did you need something?”

“Oh yes indeed Professor Lupin,” said Fred, sharing a smirk with his twin.

“Or should we say, Uncle Moony!” said George dramatically.

Remus jolted.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“It’s true isn’t it? That sneaky Potter!”

“Didn’t know he had it in ‘im.”

“I don’t know whether to thump him or pat him on the back.”

“Will you tell us about the map?”

“Who are Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs?”

“Was the passageway behind the big mirror on the fourth floor always blocked?”

“How do you get into the one under the Willow without getting pulverised?”

“How did you get the map to insult people?”

Remus reeled at the barrage of questions. Another time he would probably have found it amusing, but there was a bigger issue at hand here.

“Boys, where did you hear that I was... Moony?”

“Snape told all the Slytherins at breakfast this morning that your Harry’s guardian, that’s why he’s been staying with you instead of in the Tower,” explained George and Remus went cold.

“... Boys, I’d be happy to answer all your questions, but right now I need to speak with the Headmaster. Another time,” he said with a strained smile before turning and limping his way, as fast as he could, to Dumbledore’s office.

The adrenaline suddenly pumping through his veins kept most of the ache in his joints at bay as he rushed through the halls and he knew he’d pay for it later. Mid-thirties was relatively young for a wizard but for a werewolf it was firmly middle-aged, and with every full moon that passed, Remus' body let him know it. It didn’t help that the Headmaster’s office was, of course, on the seventh floor.

It was on the sixth floor that it finally occurred to him that Dumbledore may not even be in his office. Thankfully, at that moment Remus bumped into McGonagall.

“Minerva! Do you know if Albus is in his office?”

“I’m afraid he’s still at the Ministry, helping Fudge manage recent events. Starting, I should hope, with removing those Dementors from our school.” It was then she recognised the panic on his face. “Remus what is it?”

“It seems Severus let it slip to the Slytherins that I’m Harry’s guardian at breakfast,” Remus explained, and Minerva's eyes widened. “It’s only a matter of time before it gets back to the Ministry and they put two and two together after last night. Then they’ll come for me. Harry and I have to leave before that happens.”

His control slipped more and more and by the time he finished speaking he was on the threshold of hyperventilation.

“I’ll deal with Severus later, for now Remus, you need to calm yourself.”

“We have to leave... we have to go...”

“Remus.”

“Have to tell Albus... explain... have to go.”

“Lupin!” called Minerva and Remus snapped out of it, meeting her gaze with slightly wild eyes. “You’re not going anywhere. You don’t need Albus, you need _Sirius_.”

Remus just shook his head in confusion.

“Mr Black is Harry Potter’s godfather. If things were different, Harry would have gone straight to him after the Potter’s died. As it is, now that this whole bloody mess has been uncovered and Mr Black is available again, the custody of Harry Potter, legally, reverts back to him. Which, most importantly, means the Ministry cannot take Harry away, nor can anyone else.”

Remus took a deep breath. Minerva was right. Of course she was. Sirius had custody of Harry, and Padfoot wouldn’t let anyone take him away. Harry was safe. Remus on the other hand...

“They can still arrest me. I promised Harry I’d never leave him.”

“Arrest you based on what?” scoffed McGonagall. “A few rumours Severus spread amongst the students? They have no proof; _Severus_ has no proof. Even if they did find out that Harry was living with you, there’s a reason the pair of you moved out of the country. Now I suggest you go and speak to Sirius and then get some rest. You’ll do yourself an injury running around like this after the moon,” she scolded gently.

As the panic drained away, he could indeed feel his joints protesting again, which they did insistently and painfully. His journey back down to the hospital wing was likely to be considerably slower going than the journey up, but he had enough practice manoeuvring on his creaking bones not to fall down the stairs at least. He gladly accepted the pain and exhaustion in exchange for the relief Minerva had brought him. Not for the first time in his life, he blessed the existence of Minerva McGonagall with his whole heart.

\---

After her conversation with Remus, Minerva had calmly walked to the Headmaster’s office, calmly told the Gargoyle the current password - strawberry bonbons – calmly ascended the spiral staircase and entered the circular office, and very calmly indeed, took a seat behind the Headmaster’s desk and waited.

It took half an hour, but at last the flames in the fireplace roared green and Albus Dumbledore stepped out. He looked weary in a way he rarely let anyone see, but Minerva did not let that shake her resolve. The conversation that was about to happen had been a long time coming.

“Good morning Albus,” she called, tone carefully neutral.

“Minerva.”

“All squared away at the Ministry?”

“Indeed.”

“Mr Black has nothing to worry about?”

“Not for the moment at least. The future, as with us all, is in his own hands however.”

“Hm. Have a seat Albus.”

The Headmaster raised an amused eyebrow but Minerva was quite clearly not moving and he was left to take the seat opposite her where his visitors usually sat. Minerva waited for him to get comfortable, expression blank. She kept her eyes fixed on the centre of his forehead. If Albus truly wanted to read her mind it wouldn’t take too much effort on his part, Minerva was no natural Occlumens and any barriers she did put up tended to fall apart when her emotions flared, still she was not about to make it easier for him.

“I have a problem Albus,” she started slowly. “The students have a problem. It is not a new problem. It is one I have brought to you before, as I believe have Pomona and Filius. And yet this is a problem that you have continuously avoided properly addressing. That. Ends. _Now._ ”

“Minerva...”

“Severus Snape is my problem Albus. Day after day I have students in my office with tales of being belittled and bullied by the man, and his favouritism towards Slytherin house. Time and time again he has proven himself unfit to teach, and yet every time I have brought my concerns to you, you have dismissed them as if they were nothing more than simple complaints about house points! No more Albus, it has gone far enough!”

“Minerva,” said Albus quietly. “Why are we having this discussion now, has Severus done something?”

“Oh he most certainly has _done_ something,” she spat. “His actions this time, aside from being petty and cruel, have very likely put the wellbeing of both a student and a member of staff in danger. He told all of Slytherin house that _Remus was Harry’s guardian!”_

“I see,” sighed Albus.

“I’ve done my best to reassure Remus, with Black proven innocent he becomes legal guardian of Potter again so we’re alright there, and of course they have no proof that Remus has done anything wrong,” said Minerva, getting up to pace. “But there’s plenty of people who hear the word werewolf and decide that’s all the proof they need. We both know that after the embarrassment of this whole mess with Black, the Ministry will be scrambling to drum up some good publicity and they won’t hesitate to sacrifice Remus if they believe it will make them look better. We _cannot_ let them use him as a scapegoat. It would destroy both him and Harry, and likely Sirius as well. If nothing else, twelve years in Azkaban means, I am quite sure, Black is in no condition to be raising a teenager alone.”

“Quite right Minerva. I shall definitely keep a close eye on the Ministry. If it looks like they mean to make a move against our Professor Lupin, I will of course step in. And thank you for bringing it to my attention,” he said with a note of finality that set Minerva bristling.

“Yes, and what else are you going to do?”

The Headmaster made a questioning noise, a frustratingly placid and innocent smile on his face. Minerva felt her nostrils flare.

“What are you going to do about _Severus_? The man leaked sensitive and private information about a student and a member of staff.”

“Well now, we all make mistakes. I’m quite sure Severus didn’t intend to make trouble. And I will personally ensure that there is no harm done. It’s nearly the end of the year, the exams are finished, I suggest we all enjoy these last few days.”

Minerva was not a woman given to physical violence, she had great respect for the man in front of her, but right at that moment she couldn’t help but think how satisfying it would be to slap him upside the head.

“With all due respect, you and I both know that that is utter _drivel_ ,” she said instead. “Yes, we all make mistakes, but Severus knew what he was doing. Severus always knows what he is doing. I have known him as long as you have Albus. I was hesitant when you first appointed him as Potions Master but I didn’t complain because I trusted your judgement and I know that he did valuable work for the Order in those last few months.”

“Indeed, he sacrificed much for our cause.”

“No more than the rest of us,” Minerva pointed out. “And that doesn’t explain why you favour him. We all made sacrifices, we all risked our lives to take down You-Know-Who, and Severus wasn’t our only spy.”

Thankfully she didn’t have to spell it out for Albus to know who she meant.

“Remus understood what he had to do. It was necessary.”

“Of course he understood, but you speak of sacrifice. Do you know the details of what he experienced on those missions? I personally do not but I know it was nothing good and it left a mark. Does Remus warrant the same excuses and favour that you show Severus?”

“Of course.”

“Truly?” she challenged. “We continued hunting for weeks even after you received the letter from Remus explaining that he had Harry.”

“What are you implying Minerva?”

“Tell me honestly Albus. Did you suspect that Remus was the traitor? We all knew how close he was to Black; did you think he would hurt Harry?”

“I did not!” protested Dumbledore, calm facade finally cracking if only a little. “I swear to you, I never questioned Remus Lupin's loyalty to our cause or his devotion to the Potter’s.”

“Then why did you insist we return Harry to the muggles, even knowing their treatment of him?”

He didn’t answer that, simply averted his eyes. Minerva sighed; exhaustion fell like a weight on her shoulders. She was done.

“I’m going to give you two options Albus. Either you do something about Severus, and begin actually sharing your plans or at least your _reasons_ with me. Or... I will resign.”

There was a shocked silence after that. Dumbledore’s eyes were wide behind his glasses. To an outsider it may not have sounded like much of a threat, but the pair of them knew it for the true ultimatum it was. If Minerva left the school for anything except retirement, others would follow. Considering the trouble they went through to find a Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor each year, finding a suitable replacement, even for Minerva alone would be a monumental task. Made worse by the fact that with Minerva gone, Albus would quickly find himself with reams more paperwork to do. It was the students that would suffer the most for it. And if that wasn’t enough to show him just how serious she was about this, nothing was.

“Very well Minerva,” he conceded, and for the first time in a very long time, Albus Dumbledore shared his full knowledge with another person.


	13. Chapter 13

Everything felt hazy. Poppy pointedly told him it was a result of exhaustion and it would clear once he’d got some rest but for Sirius things had been hazy for years. Twelve years to be exact.

The last twelve months especially were a blended mush of snapshots coloured by the straightforward emotions of Padfoot. His saving grace. He’d probably spent more time as himself in these last twenty-four hours than he had since he escaped...

The exception to the haze had of course been the _rat._ Spotting him in the paper had finally given him the push to act instead of staying stuck, dwelling. He had one goal, get to Hogwarts, keep Harry safe, _find the rat._ And he’d done it. Wasn’t that just the strangest thing. He actually did it. He got it right for once. It was over, and he was cut adrift.

In some ways Sirius welcomed the fussing from Poppy. It reminded him that this wasn’t a dream. For as long as he was awake, she came in every couple of hours to check him over and bring him something small to eat. A younger Sirius might have complained at the blandness of the meals but his diet recently made the prospect of chicken and rice into food of the gods, and he ate gratefully every time.

He spent most of the rest of his time sleepless, staring out of the window at the sky growing lighter. By the time it had settled into a brilliant blue, there wasn’t a cloud in sight and part of him wanted to run outside and bask. Now and then he snuck glances at Harry, asleep at the other end of the room. Tufts of dark hair sticking out in every direction, one foot poking free of the blankets again mere moments after Moony had straightened them. Merlin, he looked so much like James.

Sirius was both excited and dreading the next time he got a chance to talk to him. He hadn’t exactly made the best impression last night. He just hoped Moony was right when he said Harry wouldn’t mind if Sirius came to live with them. He wanted a chance to prove himself as the godfather Lily and James believed he could be. He had so much to make up for.

He was just about ready to give in and take the sleeping draught Poppy had left steaming on the side table with a humph, when Remus came in looking considerably more stressed than earlier. For a moment Sirius worried that he had somehow got lost in his thoughts and a whole day had passed him by, but no, he’d been watching the sky. It couldn’t have been more than an hour or two at most since Moony left after their chat.

Amongst lots of apologies that Sirius dismissed easily, Remus explained the situation, beginning with Snape. And hadn’t that been a delightful revelation, that that bastard had been his godson's teacher these past three years. And based on Remus' story, he was still as slimy and untrustworthy as ever. He managed to resist the urge to go and hunt the bastard down and curse him into next week before Moony got to the end of the story. And hey look at that! Maybe he had matured in these last twelve years after all.

“I'm sorry. I shouldn’t be putting this on you when you’ve only just- I just don’t know what to do, I’m sorry.”

“Hey, come on now enough of that. Of course you should. That’s what I’m here for, you don’t have to do everything by yourself any more. I’m going to take care of you. You and Harry,” Sirius promised, squeezing Moony’s hand when he starting twisting the sheets in stress.

“You don’t need to worry about the aurors Pads. If they do come back it won’t be you they’re after,” said Remus, aiming for a joking tone but missing the mark.

“They’ll take you over my dead body,” Sirius growled out, and he meant it.

He’d lost memories while he was locked up, he knew that. Could feel the empty spaces in his head where they’d been gouged out by the Dementors. But they weren’t all gone. He still had memories of Lily and James and Harry, and of course, Moony. If he was being cocky he might try and attribute it to his own strength of will, or perhaps if he was feeling sentimental, the depths of love he had for his family. But the truth was likely quite simply that those memories were tainted with so much guilt and loss that they weren’t appetising enough for the Dementors to bother with.

Sirius couldn’t let that happen to Remus. Moony already had too much guilt and loss in his life. A side effect of the whole world insisting you’re a monster. James, Lily and he had done their best to act as a barrier for Moony, propping him back up every time the world started to grind him down, but these last twelve years Moony hadn’t had that. He could only assume that Harry had kept him going, just like the thought of him had for Sirius. Remus was the strongest person Sirius knew but everyone had a breaking point. If the aurors took Remus away, away from Harry, he would crumble. Sirius would not let that happen.

“Seems like I need to have a chat with old Fudgy boy. Who do you reckon has my old clothes, or do you think they got rid of all my stuff?”

“Your clothes?”

“Of course. As flattering as these hospital gowns are, I think I’d feel a tad under dressed wearing these to the Ministry.”

“Right, yes, of course. I’ll go and try and find some robes for you... but are you sure about this Pads? It can’t be public knowledge that you’re innocent yet, going to the Ministry might not be safe. Besides you should be resting,” Remus fretted.

“Relax Moony. I won’t go alone; I’ll get Dumbledore to come with me and stay as Padfoot till I get to Fudge's office or something. I can rest when this is all sorted out,” he assured.

Remus still looked worried but left to find Sirius something to wear besides the hospital gown or the rags he’d arrived in.

There was a fuss when Poppy heard what he was planning and unsurprisingly objected, and even more of one when Harry woke up and tried to insist on coming as well. Sirius was flattered and almost tempted to let him but at that point Remus returned and very calmly explained why that wasn’t happening, not least because taking Harry out of school before term was actually finished in order to bring him to the Ministry to yell at the Minister of Magic wasn’t likely to help their cause much in convincing anyone that Sirius was responsible and fit to receive custody of Harry. Sirius decided that he wouldn’t tell Remus that he’d been planning to do some yelling of his own until then.

Harry clearly still wanted to come but accepted Moony’s arguments and agreed to stay. He’d cheered up enough to laugh at Sirius when Poppy brought the scissors out and he squawked and tried to protect his hair with his bony arms.

“Mr Black, something needs to be done about that hair!” she scolded.

“You’ll cut it too short, I remember what happened to Stebbins after the glitter incident, it took over a year to grow back past his ears!”

Remus snorted and then blushed and faced away when everyone turned to look at him.

“I will not have you leaving my ward looking like you’ve been dragged backwards through a hedge.”

“Fine! Then Moony can do it,” said Sirius decisively, and Remus who had been biting his lip to stave off giggles snapped around in alarm.

“Oh Pads I really don’t know if that’s...”

“You can do it Moony; you’ve always done mine,” said Harry.

“I don’t know if that’s a point in his favour,” teased Ron, tugging on a tuft of hair sticking straight up out of Harry’s head and snickering when Harry slapped his hand away with a fake scowl.

Remus still looked reluctant so Sirius shot him his best puppy dog eyes until he slumped in defeat.

“Do you have any Sleekeazy potion Poppy?” he asked and Sirius grinned in triumph.

He didn’t know where Remus had found the robes he was now wearing. They looked vaguely familiar. But they were clean and comfortable and with a few simple tailoring charms, courtesy of Moony, they helped disguise the fact that he’d been missing more than a few good square meals in the last however long. Despite his hesitancy, Moony had done more than a passable job on Sirius' hair. It was shorter than how he used to wear it, now only reaching as far as his chin, but at least it was no longer matted and tangled, and carrying the persistent smell of the Forbidden Forest. When he looked in the mirror, he could almost recognise himself.

Luckily it seemed no one else did. Like he’d told Moony, Sirius had been prepared to turn into Padfoot the moment he stepped through the floo, but even as he hurried to find some little alcove to transform in, he realised no one was giving him a second glance, not even the auror he rode down to Level One in the lift with.

He’d visited Gringotts first to grab some money and the spare wand he left in his vault, but hadn’t been surprised when the Goblins didn’t raise any kind of alarm. Generally unconcerned with ‘wizard business’ as they were. But Sirius felt he should probably be more concerned that a – as far as most people were aware – wanted criminal could walk freely around the Ministry of Magic with no one the wiser, and all he had to do was get a change of robes and a haircut.

It was only once he was at the door to the Minister’s office that anyone even said a word to him.

“Excuse me, do you have an appointment?” asked a bored looking woman sat at a desk nearby.

“Not to worry, he’s expecting me,” _or at least he should be,_ Sirius thought to himself, flashing the woman a winning smile before flinging open the door and marching in.

“Wha- Mr Black? You can’t just barge in here!” blustered the man stood inside, shaking off his hand where he’d just spilt whiskey all over himself in surprise.

“Ah but I just did, but please! Finish your drink Minister, we have a lot to discuss,” said Sirius, settling himself into a chair as if it were a throne.

Fudge huffed in displeasure but took the seat opposite him, his knuckles were white where they gripped his glass.

“Remind me how long you’ve been Minister?”

“This is my fourth year,” he answered into the glass.

“Hm... you’ll have to excuse me. It’s hard to stay up to date from an Azkaban cell.” Sirius smiled with too many teeth. “Now!” he clapped, enjoying it a little too much when the Minister jumped in his chair, “you’re a busy man I’m sure, so let’s make this simple. I’ll tell you what I want, you give it to me, we both get back to our lives.”

“Well wh-what is it that you want exactly?”

“First things first, I’ll need an official pardon and a public apology.”

“Public,” Fudge repeated with trepidation.

“Oh not to worry. I don’t need much fanfare. Just a reporter or two to get the truth out there, make sure that no one gets any silly ideas when I take custody of Harry.”

“Custody... Harry?”

“Mm, Harry Potter, my godson.”

“Well now, I-I’m really not sure that’s appropriate.”

“Appropriate, no, you don’t think so?” asked Sirius mildly. “Oh and speaking of custody, I’ll also be needing you to repeal the law on werewolves being refused custody of children.”

Fudge gaped unattractively for several seconds before producing any sound. “What- I- are you _insane?”_

Sirius quirked an eyebrow innocently.

“That is a preposterous demand!” said the Minister, slamming the now empty glass down on the desk.

“Alright,” said Sirius with an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose I’ll settle for a single case exception for now.”

“For who?” Fudge demanded.

“Remus Lupin. I intend to make him joint legal custodian.”

Fudge turned red; his eyes looked just about ready to pop out of his skull, and finally he erupted.

“That is absurd! You can’t just come in here and expect me to- I am the Minister of Magic- deserve respect! With your demands and your- who do you think you are? Ridiculous, utterly ridiculous!”

Sirius waited until he was bored of the blustering then calmly got to his feet and placed both hands on the desk, looming over the other man until he finally shut up.

“You don’t seem to understand Fudge,” he said quietly. “You see, I _will_ get a pardon, an apology, and legal joint-custody with Remus Lupin, sanctioned by the Wizengamot and Ministry approved, of Harry Potter, or I will sue you. And not just the Ministry, but _you_ specifically. I will take every last knut and sickle, I will leave this entire institution in _ruins_ if I have to.”

Fudge's chin wobbled, his lips pursed indignantly but he wisely kept quiet as Sirius stepped away and poured himself his own glass of whiskey before lounging back in the chair.

“Have you met the Black family lawyers?” he asked pleasantly. “Charming bastards, ruthlessly efficient, and not a moral between them. And if that’s not enough I could hire more, hell I could even hire lawyers for my lawyers, set them up in a big lawyer house. What do you think, do they need individual rooms or should I have them bunk up? I could lend them to Harry afterwards, picture it: The Boy Who Lived narrowly avoids the Dementors Kiss from the very Dementors the Ministry of Magic sent to protect him. I’d say that’s one hell of a case. But maybe Harry won’t want that, maybe we’ll just take it to the press instead. Who was that sensationalist nut who reported on all the Death Eater trials, Skeeter? I’m sure she’d work wonders with a story like that.” Sirius would never voluntarily subject Harry to that woman but the Minister didn’t need to know that. “How long before they start calling for your head do you reckon?”

That seemed to be too much for Fudge who jumped to his feet, cheeks puffing like a toad.

“Enough! I will not be threatened like this, you will leave my office Mr Black or I will have the aurors drag you out!”

Sirius stood up again. He was exhausted, malnourished, and desperate to get back to his godson and Moony. It was time to end this. He let the cocky facade drop and considered the man in front of him with eyes sunken in under twelve years of grief, horror and anger.

“I lost everything that night, and then you people locked me away in that hell without a trial. I have spent twelve years with the whole world believing that I betrayed and murdered the only true family I ever had. Do you really think you scare me?”

The colour drained from the Minister’s face and he leaned away. Sirius kept eye contact as he finished his drink in one long gulp. It burned on the way down.

“I’ll leave you to consider your options. I hope to hear from you soon... or you’ll be hearing from me.”

Less than a week later a Ministry owl arrived with a stack of papers including a pardon, two custody forms, and an official exemption from Law 2648-M of one Remus J Lupin, werewolf.

\---

Remus was still waiting for the other shoe to drop. Ever since Sirius had returned from the Ministry it felt like he’d been holding his breath. Everything in his life had taught Remus that there was no good without bad. Remus has friends for the first time – good, he loses every one of them in the war against Voldemort – bad. Remus took Harry from the Dursley’s – good, they’re forced to spend nine years in hiding – bad. Harry gets to go to Hogwarts – good, Voldemort tries to kill him for the second and third time – bad. Remus gets a job at Hogwarts – good, Sirius Black escapes from Azkaban – bad. Sirius is innocent and free, the real traitor is caught, and Remus is given joint legal custody of Harry ending more than a decade of paranoia and Ministry ducking – nothing short of a miracle, but then... nothing.

He wasn’t trying to tempt fate. And Merlin knows he didn’t _want_ any more ‘bad' to happen. But he was struggling to believe that just this once, it might all be ‘good'. That he was allowed it, no caveats, just this once.

Of course it wasn’t only ‘good’. Remus had to resign from Hogwarts. He didn’t know how Sirius had convinced them to give him an exemption and had very deliberately avoided asking, but whatever it was, it didn’t change the Ministry’s attitude towards werewolves and they’d been putting subtle pressure on Dumbledore to get rid of him. If that wasn’t enough, his predictions had come true and it seemed word had spread throughout the Ministry to the parents, at least he assumed so based on the letter he received one morning packed full of silver filings. The idea that werewolves were affected by silver was a firm myth, but the implication behind it was clear.

Remus wasn’t sure that losing his job counted as the ‘bad' he’d been expecting however. A year working at a job he loved and succeeded at was more than he ever dreamed he would get. If losing it was indeed the only downside to recent events, then he would accept it gratefully. Even if both Harry and Sirius protested.

When Sirius had handed him the exemption and the custody papers, Remus hadn’t been able to speak. Instead he launched himself at Sirius and wrapped his arms around him for a full minute. He hid his face in Padfoot’s neck and they both politely ignored the damp patch left on Sirius' shoulder when Remus finally pulled away. Harry’s reaction was more subdued but no less pleased. He shot Remus a smirk and asked Sirius if he would sign his Hogsmeade permission form for next year.

Sirius' public apology was scheduled for two days before the end of term, and once again Harry insisted he go too – _to make sure they don’t try any funny business_ – he explained. Remus hesitated at first, but eventually gave in. He couldn’t help but smile when a photo of a determined but uncomfortable looking Harry standing beside Sirius appeared on the front page of the Prophet the next day.

They’d decided to delay looking for a house until after the public apology, when people were less likely to call the aurors the moment they saw Sirius. The day afterwards he received ten separate interview requests and a further dozen letters from various witches and wizards variously declaring their support, doubts, or claiming that they knew of his innocence all along. Pads suggested they wait another few weeks until hopefully the public furore died down. Until then they would head back to the commune.

Remus had never felt nervous about going back to Sweden before. Cautious, exhausted, relieved, yes, but never nervous. But then he’d never gone back with anyone before, aside from Harry. Everyone at the commune was expecting them. Remus had sent a letter to Freydis beforehand explaining everything – well, maybe not everything, but the basics at least – and he’d received an _enthusiastic_ letter in return saying that everyone was looking forward to meeting Sirius. He was pretty sure that was when the nerves started.

In the last few weeks at Hogwarts, Sirius had shared Remus' rooms while Harry, much to his relief and Remus' amusement, finally returned to Gryffindor tower. It had gone smoother than Remus expected, living in such close quarters again. Sirius had nightmares often, but Remus could deal with that. He had plenty of experience with them himself after all. In some ways Sirius had changed, he tended to be quieter now, stiller, more thoughtful, his eyes carried a deadened haunted look. But in many ways, he was the same man that Remus had grown up with and cared for. He still had the same sense of humour, the same easy grace, a smile was still all it took to have Remus' breath catching, he still felt a frisson of warmth as he took his hand to apparate to the border...

Nadja and Matty were waiting for them this time, along with Lars. When they saw them coming Matty climbed off one of the snowmobiles and got on the back of Lars', leaving Harry to join Nadja and left Remus and Sirius one to themselves.

“It’s not quite your old bike but...” said Remus, trailing off when Sirius’ hands landed on his hips as he climbed on behind him.

“All transport is inferior to my bike, but I’ll give it a whirl,” joked Sirius.

Remus couldn’t resist speeding up, grinning when Sirius let out a whoop and he heard Harry laughing behind them.

The familiar shape of cabins appeared on the horizon before too long and they turned in to park the snowmobiles in the shed. He immediately missed the warmth of Sirius behind him but was distracted by Lars ‘helping' him down. The idiot had actually vaulted Nadja's mobile to reach him before Remus could get off by himself, something he was perfectly capable of doing as he took pains to tell Lars every time, not that it stopped the great lummox who simply patted him on the shoulder with a smug grin and wandered off.

Remus could feel Sirius' curious eyes on him but avoided his gaze.

Freydis emerged from her cabin and immediately pulled Remus and Harry into hugs.

“It’s been too long my dears!”

“Less than three months,” Remus pointed out.

“Three months too long,” declared Freydis before turning her eagle eyes on Sirius. “So, this is your young man Remus. He’s a handsome boy, but much too skinny.”

Remus was suddenly immensely thankful that Sirius didn’t understand Swedish. He laughed awkwardly and hoped the blush he could feel rising wasn’t too obvious.

“No Freydis it’s not like–” he gave up when it became clear Freydis wasn’t listening.

“Sirius, I am Freydis. Welcome to our home,” she introduced herself in English.

“It’s lovely to meet you,” said Sirius, shaking her hand. “And thank you, I know it’s a risk letting strangers in, I’m grateful you made an exception for me.”

“Ah, nonsense! Remus says you are no stranger, he vouch for you, that is good enough for us. He is a good boy, good parent to Harry, you take care good care of them both.”

His blush was definitely now visible.

“I’ll certainly do my best,” promised Sirius, sending a soft and amused smile Remus' way.

Remus cleared his throat and quickly shifted conversation to the more neutral subject of recent news as they walked towards their old cabin. They swapped the highlights, knowing they’d have plenty more time to share the details over the next few weeks. Remus had to juggle the bags to fish out his wand in order to unlock the door. At least he’d remembered to take down most of the extra warding when they left last time so it didn’t take too long.

“I’ll leave you to settle. I’ll come back later with some food for you. None of you have been eating properly, I can tell,” said Freydis.

“We’ve been eating just fine Freydis,” Remus rolled his eyes.

“Proper eating means good _Swedish_ food Remus. So skinny,” she added, patting Sirius' cheek disapprovingly. “I’ll make you up some _Kalops_ ,” she called over her shoulder, marching back to her own cabin with purpose.

Harry snorted and led the way inside.

“What was she saying?” asked Sirius.

“She thinks you need feeding up,” said Remus, starting to pack everything away.

“No, I got that bit. I meant before when you were chatting in Swedish. She sounded kind of... heated.”

“Oh! Yes, we were just talking about what happened. Why I’m no longer at Hogwarts. Freydis was sharing her opinion on certain people involved.”

“Snape?” growled Sirius.

“And Dumbledore. She called him a donkey jubilee,” he said with a laugh. “It sounds better in Swedish,” he added when Sirius raised an eyebrow.

“Guess I should start learning Swedish then,” Sirius said, amused.

“We’ll teach you. Right Harry?”

“Of course, I’ve already been teaching Ron and Hermione some. Although Ron mostly likes the dirty words,” said Harry.

For his own peace of mind, Remus pretended not to hear that.

There was a bit of a kerfuffle over the bed situation. Remus had planned on transfiguring the sofa into a cot for himself and giving his bed to Sirius but Sirius protested. A year sleeping rough meant a cot would be more than comfortable he claimed. Remus refused, Sirius wasn’t fully recovered yet and Poppy had said the most important thing was rest, something that Sirius would better achieve in a proper bed.

Harry tried to offer up his bed instead, but Sirius argued that he’d already been the cause for Harry having to give up his own bed once this year and he wasn’t about to do so again, and Remus pointed out that while he was an early riser, Harry was definitely not which would make mornings tricky. Finally they reached the compromise that Remus would take the cot and Sirius the bed, except for the days after the full moon. Neither of them said anything but they were both thinking it, his first moon without Wolfsbane, even with the others and Padfoot on hand, it was going to be rough.

The next day was spent introducing Sirius to everyone. Remus reassured him that they didn’t need to do so straight away, wary of Sirius getting overwhelmed. It wasn’t unusual for new arrivals at the commune to spend a few days in their cabins before interacting with the rest of them. It was an adjustment after all, most of the people here had difficult pasts to say the least. But Sirius insisted, he’d spent too much of his life trapped inside four walls away from other people as it was, besides he wanted to get to know the group that had helped protect the two most important people in his life. Remus had blushed at that.

They were returning from chatting to Matty, who was in the middle of his latest construction project – a sauna attached to his cabin – when the hairs on the back of Remus' neck stood up. He spun on his heel, wand out, and got a shield charm up just in time to block the tickling hex aimed at his ribs.

“You’re getting quicker,” he complimented a grinning Nikita, subtly giving Sirius' wrist a comforting squeeze who had gone tense, one hand gripping his wand.

“I’ve been practicing with Andrew.”

“Ah, and how is Mr Nilsson?” asked Remus, Nikita's husband had been feeling under the weather during his last visit.

“Perfectly fine, it was just the flu as I thought. Ridiculous man gets a paper cut and acts like he’s dying,” Nikita rolled her eyes. “But come, we are being rude. Introduce me.”

“Of course, Nikita this is Sirius Black, Sirius this is Nikita Nilsson, I’ve been teaching her duelling.”

“How do you do, Mr Black,” said Nikita offering her hand.

“Lovely to meet you, Mrs Nilsson.” Sirius kissed the back of her hand and Remus recalled, bemused, that the pair of them were both heirs to noble families.

“Charming.”

“You must be a very skilled dueller, the last person to get that close to landing a hit on Remus was three years above us in school.”

Remus rolled his eyes, to hear Sirius tell it he was a master dueller, on a level with the professionals. While Remus would admit that he had some skill, the truth was it mostly came down to the advantage of sharp senses and quick reflexes.

“He is an excellent teacher,” said Nikita.

“Yes he is,” agreed Sirius with an edge to his voice that Remus ignored. Both Harry and Sirius were still displeased with him about his resignation.

“You two went to school together?”

“We shared a dormitory at Hogwarts, as well as Harry’s father,” explained Remus.

“Friends ever since,” added Sirius.

“Ah yes, Hogwarts. I heard what happened Remus. They didn’t deserve you,” said Nikita sternly.

“I quite agree,” Sirius smirked, and Remus cleared his throat and fidgeted uncomfortably.

“You’re back home now. You can carry on tutoring me and my boys instead,” she said bluntly, and Remus wondered if she’d been spending time with Anette Södergren. “Wonderful to meet you Mr Black, you take good care of Remus for me, I need him in good form for our next practice.”

They parted ways and the moment Nikita was out of hearing range Sirius turned to him brimming with amusement and Remus sighed.

“I'm sensing a pattern Moony,” he said.

“I am actually capable of taking care of myself,” Remus defended.

“Oh, I know. But you did always bring out that maternal instinct in people, didn’t you?”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Lily, Poppy, even McGonagall had a soft spot for you.”

“Okay now–”

“Tell me, have you been adopted by _everyone_ here, or is it just the women?” Sirius teased, and Remus laughed shaking his head. “I don’t know how you managed to stay hidden for so long, anyone trying to find you just has to follow the trail of cooing – ‘oh that Lupin, he’s such a _polite_ young man’. I better keep my eye on you from now on, if you get so much as a bruise, I’ll have an army of Moony-protectors after my head.”

“I don’t know what you’re on about Pads, I had plenty of detentions from McGonagall, how does that mean she had a soft spot for me?”

“You barely ever got detention Mr Goody Moony Shoes. Not like me and James did.”

“That’s because you two idiots couldn’t resist boasting so you always got caught,” pointed out Remus.

“Of course! How else would people know it was us? We couldn’t let someone else take the credit for our achievements.”

“Of course not,” Remus shook his head again, exasperated.

Sirius had gone quiet again by the time they got back to their cabin, moods shifting on the turn of the winds. He’d always been mercurial to say the least, but Remus didn’t think he was imagining it that these days he was even more so. Not that Remus couldn’t understand why.

Whenever Sirius went distant and thoughtful like this Remus made tea and biscuits, but tried to give him space. Food, water, and a clear view of the exits, like dealing with an injured animal, the comparison once occurred to Remus before he shoved it away and felt guilty for the rest of the day. He never pushed Sirius to talk. There was plenty still to be said. Remus could feel it hanging heavy in the air between them whenever they were alone. There were things that _needed_ to be said, for both their sakes. But he never pushed. Sirius would talk when he wanted to talk and Remus would listen. Until that day came, he would wait.

“I never should have suspected you,” said Sirius, voice hoarse.

Apparently, that day had arrived.

“You weren’t the only one. Half the order avoided looking me in the eye,” Remus reasoned, sliding a cup of tea over to Sirius and settling in the seat opposite him.

“That’s different,” Sirius growled. “We’ve been friends for years; I mean we were- you were my...”

“I know.”

It was something they’d never said out loud. He wondered if they ever would.

“I don’t blame you Sirius.”

“You should.”

“Well then answer one question for me Pads. Can you forgive me?” Remus kept his voice level, but his fingers clenched around the mug. The heat pricked at his skin, just the wrong side of painful but he didn’t let go.

“What?”

“I haven’t exactly spent the last twelve years trying to prove your innocence Sirius. Merlin’s sake, I didn’t even go to your trial!” he spat, words dark with guilt.

“My trial, what do you mean?” Sirius frowned.

“When Albus told me what happened... I was in a bad way and I couldn’t face it, seeing you like that. That’s no excuse I know. God, I didn’t even ask when it was.”

“But Remus, there was no trial.”

Remus froze, then snapped his head up so fast his neck audibly cracked.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean I didn’t get a trial. One moment I was stood in Peter’s wreckage, out of my head trying to figure out what the hell happened. Flash, bang, boom. Aurors arrive. I was on the boat to Azkaban before the sun rose the next day. We didn’t even stop at the Ministry.”

“B-but you were _sentenced_. How were you sentenced without a trial?”

“I don’t know what to tell you Moons,” Sirius shrugged.

Remus jammed his thumbs against the bridge of his nose and squeezed his eyes shut.

“Does Dumbledore know? _Did he_ know?” he asked feeling sick.

“I don’t know, but I’d be surprised if he didn’t.”

He didn’t know how Sirius could sound so calm about all of this, and said as much.

“Come on Moony, you remember what it was like back then. How desperate. Unforgivables flying on both sides. All the aurors playing arrest first ask questions later, the Barty Crouch special. I wasn’t the only one caught on the wrong side of it.”

“If they could give Bellatrix bloody Lestrange a trial they could give you one!” Remus snapped, before forcing himself to take several sharp breaths through his nose. Sirius didn’t need his anger on top of everything else. “I’m sorry,” he said. Sirius waved it away. “At least you’re home now.”

“Yeah, I’m home,” said Sirius quietly, wonder in his voice. He was giving him the soft smile he loved and Remus felt the tension melt away.

A few days later and Harry and Remus were eating breakfast together. It had been an especially bad night for Sirius. It wasn’t just the restlessness that plagued him and kept him from sleeping more than an hour or two at a time, last night it had been nightmares too. When Remus had gone to check on him, he’d found him curled up as Padfoot under the blankets, something he only did when he was feeling particularly vulnerable. Remus left him undisturbed to hopefully catch up on the sleep he’d missed out on during the night.

“Hey Moony?” said Harry, stirring his cereal absentmindedly.

“Hm?”

“Are there any permanent heating charms?”

“Um... I don’t know about permanent but there’s definitely long-lasting ones. You find it in a lot of the gear shops in town that serve mountain climbers and cross-country skiers. They weave it into the fabric of coats and boots and the like. Why, have you been cold?” asked Remus concerned.

“Oh no, I’m fine. I was just thinking, maybe you could put it in your room. On the curtains or the blankets or something.”

“...Right.”

“You know for Sirius.”

“Has Sirius said he was cold?”

“Well he hasn’t _said_ anything but I was just thinking, his nightmares, they’re because of all that time he spent in Azkaban, right?”

Remus sighed. Sirius didn’t ever say what his nightmares were about but Remus could guess, he had his own share of them after all. Still Harry was right that Azkaban was most likely to blame for their persistence where Sirius was concerned and he nodded.

“And Azkaban's got to be really cold, out in the middle of the sea and with all the Dementors around and everything, so when Sirius wakes up here and he’s cold, he might feel like he’s still back there. But if we put loads warming charms on your room, then it might remind him that he’s not there anymore, now he’s somewhere safe, then maybe he’ll be able to sleep,” Harry explained.

Remus smiled, feeling a well of pride. “I think that’s an excellent idea,” he agreed. “Tell you what, when Sirius gets up, if you can get him out of the cabin and keep him occupied for an hour or so, I’ll get to work on charming the blankets and it’ll be a nice surprise for him tonight.”

“Great! But you should do the curtains too in case he kicks off the blankets in the night.”

“In case he’s a fidget in his sleep like you, you mean,” Remus teased and Harry stuck his tongue out at him.

They both waited on tenterhooks the following morning. Remus hadn’t heard him during the night which he was cautiously taking as a good sign. It wasn’t until Sirius emerged with the blankets wrapped around his shoulders and a slightly watery smile that they knew it had helped for sure though.

“It was Harry’s idea,” said Remus and Sirius shuffled over and ruffled Harry’s hair affectionately.

“Thanks, Prongslet,” he muttered sincerely and Harry blushed but was grinning.

They all ate breakfast with smiles on their faces that morning.

The day of the full moon Remus took Sirius out into the woods to help section off the area they would be transforming in that night. It was a careful process of layering wards so that their wolf forms couldn’t get out, but no one else could get in. They swept the area first so no unwitting campers or hikers got caught inside. It hadn’t happened yet but they never took chances. It was always carefully chosen, a good distance away from the commune, but not so far that they couldn’t make it back in the morning without killing themselves. And they never chose the same area two moons in a row to avoid disrupting the local wildlife. Werewolves didn’t typically hunt animals but they didn’t take chances either.

“So you and Lars huh?” said Sirius, breaking what had been a long stretch of quiet aside from their muttered spells.

“Me and Lars what?” said Remus.

“You two seemed pretty close.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well just yesterday with the training, and the whole snowmobile bit.”

The day before Remus had taken Sirius along to the defence class and Lars had jumped at the chance to embarrass Remus by insisting he help him demonstrate a new move. One that Remus wasn’t entirely convinced was real given that at one point it required him to lie flat on his back with his legs in the air.

“Ah yes, he does enjoy teasing me. Although the whole snowmobile thing is only because of you anyway.” He shook his head fondly.

“What?”

“It’s ridiculous but...” Remus sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, casting a few more spells before continuing. “Okay um. In those first few months that we got here, I didn’t really let Harry out of my sight, not even to play with the other kids. It made sense when we were travelling but the whole point of coming here is that it was different, safer. Eventually Freydis had enough, took me to one side and told me that it wasn’t healthy, for Harry or me. It was important I have some ‘me' time, and apparently full moons didn’t count.” Remus rolled his eyes and Sirius huffed in amusement. “So, one night she and her partner arranged to take Harry and some of the kids, and she got a group of the others to kidnap me and take me out for the night.

“It was actually really nice. We went out for a meal, I drank for the first time in a couple years and got pissed embarrassingly quickly, and it was Lars who pulled the short straw to get me home and put me to bed. The moment we were alone I apparently talked his ear off, told him my whole life story, Hogwarts, James and Lily, the war, you... But uh, in amongst the gabble I guess I started telling him about back at Hogwarts, after a full moon, how you and James used to piggyback me everywhere, guide me up and down the staircases, generally treating me like a damsel in distress.”

“Which you complained about every time I seem to remember. Said you weren’t some bloody maiden,” Sirius pointed out with a smirk.

“Well of course I did! But you know, deep down it was kind of nice, showed how much you cared. And part of me missed it... Anyway, Lars clearly remembered this, and while there aren’t any staircases around here, the next time we went out on the snowmobiles he lifted me off it like it was a bloody shire horse or something. Took me by surprise so much that first time I nearly clocked him. But ever since then it’s sort of become a thing.”

Sirius was smiling but there was something mournful in his eyes that Remus wished he knew how to wipe away. For a long moment they just stood gazing at each other.

“It’s good you found someone,” said Sirius at last. His voice was rough and quiet, for all that no one else was around to hear. “You deserve not to be alone.”

“I haven’t been alone. These people are like family to Harry and I. But that’s not what you mean, is it?”

“I just thought– you and Lars,” Sirius frowned, sounding unsure.

Remus smiled. He stepped closer and wrapped a hand loosely around Sirius’ wrist, the bare skin was warm where his gloves had slipped down and Remus could feel the comforting beat of his pulse against his fingers.

“No Pads,” he said hushed. “That’s never really been on the table for me, not since... back then I was a fool. I kept putting off saying anything, I thought we’d have more time, and then it was too late.”

“We have time now.”

“Yeah, I guess we do.”

Remus' other hand cupped Sirius' cheek and Sirius pulled him closer with a hand on his waist, their lips meeting in a gentle kiss. The same thought arose in both men’s minds before they settled into the embrace.

_At last._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are done! This has been a really fun ride and I hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I did. Thank you for all the kudos and comments, they mean so much to me and were just the boost I needed whenever I was struggling with a scene. Until next time, thanks for reading!


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